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library of congress. 

tJliap.'PZ^Copyrii'ht No. 

«lielf ..ty^.2i.5o 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 




DOLINDA 

AND THE TWINS 

(WITH “DUGGIE” IN THE REAR) 


Being the Memoir of a 
Naughty Girl 

BY 

DORA HARVEY MUNYON, A.M. 

Author of “ Half-Hour Stories,” “Sandy Jem,” “The Story of a 
Book,” “A Fortunate Fall,” “It All Depended,” 

“A Faithful Lover,” etc., etc. 


THE 

Bbbcy press 

PUBLISHERS 

114 

FIFTH AVENUE 

London NEW YORK montreal 


4539 


Library of Conaresaj 

Iwo CoPiES Ref i’viro i 

JAN 10 190' 

SECOND COPY 

Delivered to 

ORDER DIVISION 

JAN 19 IflOi- 




Copyright, 1900, 
by 
THE 

Hhbcy press 



% » 





DORA HARVEY MUNYON. 


BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE. 


Mrs. Dora Harvey Munyon is a member of 
Merion Chapter, Daughters of the American Rev- 
olution, President of the Martha Williams Soci- 
ety, Children of the American Revolution, and a 
member of the League of American Pen Women 
which has its headquarters at Washington, D. C, 

Mrs. Munyon began writing for the news- 
papers when a girl at school, using both her own 
name (M. Dora Harvey), and the nom de plume 
of ''Dolinda Mix.” Her chatty letters under this 
last name formed quite a feature in many of the 
Pennsylvania papers, while her ‘‘Chats with 
Mothers” gained a national reputation. 

Mrs. Munyon has written many clever stories 
and poems, and the publishers feel confident that 
this new volume will add not a little to the inter- 
est in her name and work. She is a great stu- 
dent and musician^ and her library, zvhich is one 
of the finest in the State, comprises thousands of 
valuable books. 

Mrs. Munyon belongs to one of the oldest fam- 
ilies in Pennsylvania, and is of Quaker origin. 
Her grandfather, the late Edward Harvey, zvas 


BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE. 


Squire of Lower Merion from 1832 until the time 
of his death, in 1858. 

Mrs. Munyon's great-grandfather and her 
great- great- grandfather fought in the zvar of the 
Revolution. She is descended from Dr. Edward 
Jones, who came over in the ‘Ship Lyon/' which 
landed at Pencoyd, August 14, 1682, two months 
before William Penn landed. Her ancestors were 
among the founders of Lower Merion Friends' 
Meeting-house, the oldest, church edihce in Penn- 
sylvania, built i6q^, and several generations lie 
buried there. 


THE PUBLISHERS. 


TO THE MEMORY OF MY BELOVED FATHER 


JAMES B. HARVEY, 

(late of lower MERION, PA)., 

THIS LITTLE VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY 
DEDICATED BY 

THE AUTHOR. 


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CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER PACE 

I. Dolinda Gobs to Meeting 9 

II. Death on the White Horse 23 

III . “Duggie” and the Ghost 37 

IV. Dolinda's First Letter 31 

V. Dolinda’s Thefts 65 

'VI. “Co’, Boss ! Co’!” 77 

VII. Little Heathens 91 

VIII. Nipped in the Bud 103 

IX. Was She a Coward? in 

X. Dolinda’s “Dawsy” 121 

’XI. In Disgrace 131 

XIL Her Motto 15? 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


TO FACE PAGE 

"Lower Merion Friends’ Meeting House, the oldest church edifice 
in Pennsylvania. Built, 1695 12 

General Wayne Tavern, Lower Merion, Montgomery Co., Pa. 
Built, 1702-3 ; opened in 1704. Washington and Lafayette 
both slept in this ancient hostelry on more than one occasion. r6 

“Black Horse Tavern,” old Lancaster Road and “County 
Line,” Lower Merion, Montgomery Co., Pa. Built before 
the Revolution. (Stands opposite to famous “Black Horse 
Barn”) 24. 

“A great, rambling, old-fashioned building.” ” Lilac Grove,” the 
Harvey Homestead, Lower Merion, Montgomery Co., Pa. 
Built, 1700 40 

Memorial stone erected by Merion Chapter, D. A. R., to mark 
the spot where Washington’s army encamped, September 14, 
1777, five days before the massacre of Paoli 44 

Lower Merion Academy, Montgomery Co., Pa 52 

The original “ Wynnestay,” near Bala, Pa. Built before the 
Revolution by Dr. Thomas Wynne, friend and physician to 
Wm. Penn 112 

The “ Black Horse ” Barn, on the old Lancaster Road, corner 
“ County Line,” where the Pennsylvania Militia under Gen- 
eral Potter defeated a detachment of Cornwallis’ army (dur- 
ing the Revolution). The dead and wounded were carried 
into this barn 142 

Washington’s Headquarters at Valley Forge, Pa 156 





DOLINDA AND THE TWINS. 


I 


Dolinda Goes to Meeting 

It was a lovely morning in early June. The 
sun was bright, the sky clear, and the air mild 
and balmy. Father brushed his broad- 
brimmed hat, tied his cravat a second time, and 
was taking a last look in the mirror at his hand- 
some face, before starting to meeting. (It was 
First Day morning.) 

“Papa, can’t we go to meetin’ with you?” 
.asked Dolinda. “Hallie has never been to 

9 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

meetinV’ she continued, as she looked at her 
little visitor, ‘'and she wants to go awfully 
much.’^ 

“Yes, thee can go, if thee promises to be- 
have,” said father. He knew Dolinda’s habit 
of getting into mischief. 

“Oh! yes, we’ll be good,” cried Dolinda. 
“Good — as — as — good as angels,” she added 
in a most convincing tone. 

“Come along, then,” said father, as he took 
his whip in his hand, and went out towards the 
barn. He drove to meeting with a sturdy little 
horse in a “Jenny Lind.” The two children 
gleefully climbed in on the back seat and took 
their places. Dolinda sat up very stiff and de- 
mure, because she was going to “meetin’,” 
and she wanted her father to see how good she 
could be. Hallie looked at her in surprise. 
Was this stiff -backed, wide-eyed miss in her 
leghorn flat really Dolinda ! She seemed trans- 
to 


Dolinda Goes to Meeting. 


formed. If people had to look like that in 
order to go to meetin’ she almost wished she 
hadn’t asked to come. But, as she had a great 
respect for Dolinda’s opinion, she wouldn’t for 
worlds have said so. 

'‘Dassent any one speak ?” whispered Hallie. 

"‘Oh! yes, you can speak in the carriage,” 
answered Dolinda, also in a whisper, “but you 
dassent hardly breathe when you get there. 
On’y I don’t want to talk now,” she added, 
“for it takes me so long to get ready to be 
good, that I have to begin now, or I’ll forget to 
behave when I get to meetin’.” 

Hallie sat still and made no further attempt 
to speak, while Dolinda gazed before her with 
a stony stare. She was repeating softly to 
herself : “Now I lay me down to sleep.” She 
thought if she could say that all the time, surely 
she would be good until meetin’ was over; 
then father would be proud of her, and not 
D 


Dolinda and the Twins 

always feel obliged to tell her that he would 
have to ‘^tan her jacket” directly. 

At last they came to Merion — dear old 
Merion Meeting House. Dolinda had learned 
that this was the oldest church building in the 
whole State of Pennsylvania (built 1695), and 
it added to her assumed dignity to know that 
her great-great-great-grandfather was one of 
its founders, and that the bones of her ancestors 
lay buried in the little ‘‘God’s Acre” behind the 
stone wall. This whole locality, so her father 
had told her, was literally filled with traditions 
of the Revolution, for just adjoining the Meet- 
ing House was “Ye Old General Wayne Tav- 
ern” where Washington and Lafayette slept 
upon more than one occasion, and almost oppo- 
site stood the old blacksmith shop where Corn- 
wallis had his horses shod. To be sure, she 
didn’t put her thoughts exactly into those 
words, but that expresses pretty clearly the 
i2 



Lower Merion Friends’ Meeting House, the oldest church edifice in Penn^ 

sylvania. Built, 1695. 




Dolinda Goes to Meeting. 

way she felt about it. She determined to im- 
part all this to Hallie on the homeward jour- 
ney. 

They drove past “Ye General Wayne/' be- 
tween the stone gate-posts, under the great 
sycamore trees and into the wagon-sheds. 
Father got out and tied old “Goalie” securely 
with the hitching-strap. Usually Dolinda 
would have been on the ground with a leap, 
but for once she waited for father to lift her 
down. He did so with a flourish, and as he 
landed her on the ground, he gave' her a little 
bounce, saying: 

“Downsy, Daisy!” 

Dolinda almost lost her composure. She 
adored her “daddy” and was always ready for 
a frolic, and when he used this dear old ex- 
pression, she laughed, almost out loud — but 
quickly said under her breath, “down to 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


:sleep/' in order to keep in the proper frame of 
mind to go into meetin’. 

The male element, at Friends’ Meeting, al- 
ways sit on one side the room, and the female 
on the other, so father went over with the 
men, while Dolinda and Hallie found a seat on 
the opposite side. The benches were stiff and 
straight-backed and most uncomfortable. To 
be sure there were faded cushions on the seats, 
but the two youngsters grew very tired as they 
.sat in the silence. Their little legs were so 
short that they didn’t reach to the floor, and, 
after a while, from the pressure of the hard 
edge of the bench against the calves of her 
legs, Dolinda’s feet went to sleep. She 
wiggled, and ‘'pins and needles” flew up and 
down her legs. She was in misery. Every 
time she wiggled she would see some severe, 
austere old lady in a poke-bonnet look at her. 
‘She wondered how Hallie was, but didn’t dare 
t4 


Dolinda Goes to Meeting. 

ask. She tried to fix her attention by gazing 
at ‘William Penn's peg." [The peg upon 
which William Penn hung his hat when he 
preached to the early settlers.] 

The sky was clear, the perfume from the 
roses and wild flowers came in through the 
open windows and doors. A lazy tune was 
made by an old bumble-bee, as he buzzed about 
the door, boring a hole in the soft wood-work. 
All was still — all was peace — all was silence 
The perfume-laden air grew heavy, and Dolin- 
da’s little eyelids began to droop. 

“Buzz-buzz-buzz" went the bee. Dolinda’s 
head bobbed. She opened her eyes quickly, 
hoping no one had seen her. As she did so 
she espied something that awakened her at 
once. 

On one of the front benches, facing the audi- 
ence, sat old Mr. Benedict. He was almost 
asleep himself! His head nodded, first for- 
i5 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

ward and then backward! Didn’t he look 
funny! He had a rim of whiskers around his 
throat, while his chin was bare; a scraggy 
moustache covered his upper lip, while long 
hairs protruded from his nostrils. His collar was 
enormously high, while his kerchief was bound 
around and around his throat, much as the doc- 
tor had bound up “Duggie’s” leg with band- 
ages, when it was broken. 

While Dolinda was looking at the bob- 
bing head, a great fly lighted on Mr. Bene- 
dict’s whiskers. Everything was deathly still, 
for the Spirit hadn’t moved any one to speak. 
‘‘Buzz-buzz-buzz” went the bee. Dolinda’s at- 
tention was riveted upon the fly. First it 
crawled all around the beard — then it climbed 
over the old man’s nose, around on his cheek, 
again on his moustache. Then it began opera- 
tions about the long hairs that protruded from 
his nostrils. Nod went his head! ''Buss'* 
i6 



General Wayne Tavern, Lower Merion, Montgomery Co., Pa. Built, 
1702-3 ; opened in 1704. Washington and Lafayette both slept in this 
ancient hostelry on more than one occasion. See page 12. 








Dolinda Goes to Meeting. 

went the bee! But Dolinda was oblivious to 
everything in the world. She only saw an old 
man’s head and an inquisitive fly. What 
would it do next? Would it go up his nose? 
She was so intent upon the fly, that, when it 
suddenly did disappear up the protruding nos- 
tril, Dolinda gave a long, gurgling, hysterical 
cry. In an instant everybody in the meeting 
was awake, half the people on their feet. 
^‘What’s the matter?” they asked in consterna- 
tion. With one quick dart Dolinda was out 
in the open air, with Hallie scampering at her 
heels. With one wild leap she was over the 
stone wall into the graveyard. Face down she 
threw herself into the buttercups and daisies. 
She laughed and cried in succession, as she 
rolled over the graves in the grass. 

''Oh ! golly I” She had broken up the meet- 
ing ! That’s ail she could think of first. Then 
came the sorrowful reflection that "Daddy” 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

would surely ^‘tan her jacket” this time. 
Again, as she thought of that big fly exploring 
the upper regions in old Mr. Benedict's head, 
she’d laugh wildly and with abandon. 

Then she heard steps coming. Oh! good- 
ness, all the people were gathering around her. 
Where was father, and what would he do with 
her? At this her laughter turned to sobs. 
Suddenly an old lady said in a shrill whis- 
per : 

^‘Don’t thee think it’s fits?” 

At this Dolinda gave another long, gurgling 
yell! Fits! Yes, that was it — fits! (Fits of 
laughter!) 

The crowd parted and father leaned over 
her. 

^Ts thee ill, child?” he asked in an anxious 
voice. 

Dolinda gave a sob — though her sob was 
suspiciously riear a laugh. 

tz 


Dolinda Goes to Meeting, 

“Jeames,” said the old lady of the shrill 
voice, ‘‘the girl has a fit. Neamiah's youngest 
daughter gets them often, and I know the 
symptoms well. Thee better get her home to 
her mother.” 

Dolinda had another paroxysm, and she 
again rolled over among the buttercups and 
daisies. Her father lifted her up and stood 
her on her feet. She hung her head, while her 
mass of yellow curls hid her scarlet face, like 
a friendly screen. 

Willing hands unhitched old “Goalie,” 
while father carried the limp, mussed-up child 
and put her in the “Jenny Lind.” Hallie, 
scared to death, crying softly, was also lifted 
in, and off they drove, out under the sycamore 
trees, and down the pike to the old homestead. 
Mother was scared, of course, but after every- 
body had gone away, and she sat by the bed in 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


the darkened room, Dolinda ‘"’fessed-up’’ and 
told her everything. 

But it was many years before father learned 
the truth. He was a benign old gentleman, so- 
he simply patted her heasi and said : 

“Thee’s a great old ‘Munkafoosie.' But 
if I had known the truth then, I would have 
‘tanned thy jacket’ well.” 

Many years after, when Dolinda was grown 
up, she was at a country gathering, when she 
heard an old lady say : 

“That’s Jeames’s daughter; the one who- 
used to get fits. Wonder if she’s outgrown 
them ?” 

Dolinda laughed, but it was with an effort 
that she restrained herself from going off into 
another fit — of laughter. 


20 


II 

Death on the White Horse 


» 



Death on the White Horse. 


II 


Death on the White Horse 

It was Dolinda’s turn to go to town. 
Mamma usually went on a shopping expedition 
once a month, and the children, one at a time 
(except in the case of the Twins), went with 
her. Margery and Ned had been since Easter, 
and now it was Dolinda's day. Long before the 
sun rose the little ‘^tow-head” of the family 
was out of bed. 

Bright and early they started, father driving 
**Co3.\{e” while mamma and Dolinda sat in the 
back of the ''J^nny Lind.’' As they rattled 
along the old plank road (which, by the 
way, is the very oldest road in Pennsylvania, 
and is spoken of in the diary of Lieutenant 
23 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


McMichael, a soldier in Washington’s army, 
as “the great road to Lancaster”), down past 
the “Black Horse,” the famous hostelry built 
before the days of the Revolution, and still 
standing at the intersection of the Old Lancas- 
ter Road and the “County Line,” the wagon 
rocked to and fro, and, as Dolinda leaned 
against the back of the seat, she felt a pleasant 
“bizzy-buzzing” sort of a feeling go up and 
down her spine. She began to sing softly to 
herself, and the “bizzy-buzzing” feeling ex- 
tended to her jaws, and made an accompani- 
ment to her words. 

Dolinda was just learning to spell, and had 
accomplished the great mental feat of pro- 
ducing Manayunk correctly. She thought that 
must be the very hardest word in the English 
language. So as the horse jogged along Do- 
linda might have been heard singing, “Y-u-n-k- 
yunk. Y-u-n-k-yunk!” 


24 



“Black Horse Tavern,” old Lancaster Road and ” County Line,” 
Lower Merion, Montgomery Co., Pa. Built before the Revolution. 
(Stands opposite to famous “Black Horse Barn.”) 







Death on the White Horse. 

At last they reached Philadelphia, and father 
went off to market, while Dolinda and her 
mother went to shop. Now Dolinda's mother 
was of a most artistic nature (her father hav- 
ing been an artist), and she loved pictures and 
everything beautiful. So, whenever she came 
to town she visited Earle’s galleries on Chest- 
nut Street, to look at the paintings. The chil- 
dren enjoyed their trips greatly. Two things 
they were sure of — to see pictures, and eat ice 
cream ! 

This day, when they entered the gallery, 
the first thing Dolinda beheld was a massive 
painting covering the entire wall at one end 
of the room. It was called “Death on the 
Pale Horse.” The horse was almost life-size, 
and the gaunt, ghostly figure in white upon its 
back fascinated the child. She stood spell- 
bound, gazing at it! She had never seen a 
large painting like that, and it seemed so real 
25 


'Dolinda and the Twins. 

that Dolinda almost expected the great animal 
to trample her under its feet. She drew a 
long breath and said: 

'‘Oh! mamma, if the Twins could only see 
itr 

Her mother went around the room looking 
at the other paintings, but Dolinda stood and 
gazed at "Death on the Pale Horse.’’ Her 
one thought was: "If the Twins could only 
see it.” They never would believe her when 
she would tell them that the horse was as big 
as "Snow-ball,” and the man as large as papa. 

All that day as her mother bought stockings, 
shirts, and shoes, Dolinda was far away in 
dreamland. "If the Twins could only see it, 
I’d be satisfied,” she kept repeating. All the 
way home that bright afternoon "Death on 
the White Horse” rode beside her in her fancy. 

By the time they reached "Lilac Grove,” as 
their old homestead was called, Dolinda had 
26 


Death on the White Horse. 

made a great resolve. She would impersonate 
“Death’' and show the Twins and “Duggie” 
what it was like. She would ride old “Snow- 
ball” as “Death” had ridden his pale, horse. 
But she must have some clinging white robes. 
Where was she to get them? Would a sheet 
do? Perhaps. But how would she put it on? 
Then she remembered that her mother had a 
pretty, soft white wrapper, with flowing 
sleeves — “angel” sleeves they were called. It 
was all lace and tucks, for mamma always wore 
it when she was sick, and sat upstairs in her 
bedroom. Wonder if she could find it? Well, 
she’d look for it, anyhow. So, after Kate had 
undressed her and put on her little gingham 
pinafore, Dolinda crept softly upstairs into her 
mother’s room. After a stealthy search she 
found the soft, filmy gown. Her heart beat 
quickly, for she knew she was doing wrong to 
touch what did not belong to her, but she 
. 27 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

yielded to the temptation. She put it on and 
viewed herself in the glass. Yes, that was fine ! 
The sleeves hung away down below her finger- 
tips, and the flowing robes stretched out on 
the floor. She took it off and rolled it up as 
small as she could, and stuffed it under her 
pinafore. Then she went downstairs, and beck- 
oned the youngsters to follow her. 

The children knew something was up; they 
could tell by Dolinda’s eyes, so they went after 
her out to the barn. 

‘‘Now I want you all to go down the lane, 
and stand under the walnut tree until I come,” 
she said. 

“What for?” asked the Twins. 

“ril tell you when I come,” replied Dolinda, 
with awe in her voice. 

“Can I go, too?” asked “Duggie.” 

“Yes, all go !” and she waved her hands as 


28 


Death on the White Horse. 

though to impress upon them the importance 
of the matter. 

So down the lane marched the youngsters, 
while Dolinda went into the stable. She led 
old ^‘Snow-ball” out of his stall, then she 
donned the white wrapper and climbed upon his 
back. She spread her silver-colored locks out 
on her shoulders, and arranged the long robe 
over the horse’s haunches, then, clinging to his 
flowing white mane, started him down the lane. 
As she neared the old walnut tree she saw the 
group of youngsters. Raising one hand and 
arm and waving it impressively, she yelled in 
a voice as deep and sepulchral as she could 
make it : 

Death on the white horse! Death on 
the white horse!” 

‘^Snow-ball” snorted and tossed his head and 
the red of his nostrils stood out in vivid con- 
trast to his white face. He seemed to feel that 

29 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


something unusual was happening, and as the 
trailing gown flapped against his sides, he be- 
came more and more restless. Nearer to the 
walnut tree they came — Dolinda’s long hair 
blowing in the breeze, the white gown floating 
away out behind them, like sails filled with 
wind. 

Death on the white horse T cried Dolinda. 

Death on the white horse!” 

The children yelled with delight at the spec- 
tacle,. though they didn’t exactly comprehend 
what it meant. Just then Ned dashed from 
behind the hedge and cut “Snow-ball” over 
the back legs with a long stick. 

'Tm Death — !” Belinda’s voice died out 
as “Snow-ball” made one wild dash and tore 
madly down the lane, the youngsters chasing 
after them. On went “Snow-ball,” with Do- 
linda clinging to his mane, her hair and gown 
-Streaming far out behind her ! On he went to 
30 


Death on the White Horse. 

the pasture field. With one leap he cleared the 
bars, and plunged in among the grazing cows 
and horses. Wildly the cattle fled at the ap- 
proach of “Death on the white horse.” On 
flew the herds, while after them tore “Snow- 
ball,” with Dolinda still clinging to his mane. 
Round and round they sped, with “Snow-ball” 
still chasing them. At last they made a dash 
against the fence; down it went, and on into 
the adjoining field they tore. “Snow-ball,” 
foaming at the mouth, with Dolinda almost ex- 
hausted, still hanging to his back, followed in 
their wake ! 

At last they came to the brook, and into 
the water plunged “Snow-ball.” He stag- 
gered, and tried to regain his footing. This 
threw Dolinda off ; but as she fell into the soft, 
muddy soil, on the brookside, she was not 
greatly hurt. On galloped “Snow-ball,” but 
Dolinda made no attempt to follow. She sat up 


Dolinda and the Twins> 


and looked around in a dazed way. She had 
been riding without a saddle, and was stiff and 
sore from the jolting. She looked at her 
mother’s pretty white gown and sighed. It was 
covered with sweat and foam from the horse 
and with mud from the creek. What should 
she do about it? She really had not meant tO' 
hurt it, but now, when she beheld its condition,, 
she realized what a naughty girl she had been. 

Wearily she took it off and rolled it up. 
Then she spied a big flat stone. She would 
hide the wrapper under that, and some day 
when Kate was in a good humor she would 
come and get it and ask her to wash it. 

Just then the youngsters came tearing over 
the field. The sun was sinking low and twi- 
light fast approaching. The Twins helped Do- 
linda home. They slipped up the back stairs 
and she got into bed as soon as possible. Her 


32 


Death on the White Horse. 

poor little head ached, and so did her bones, 
but she said anxiously : 

“How did I look. Twins?’' 

“Like a beautiful angel,” they replied; and 
Dolinda was satisfied, though she added, in 
tragic tones : 

“Yes, the Death Angel.” 


Next morning there was consternation in the 
farm. * The cows gave no milk ; they had been 
so terribly frightened. What could it mean? 
But Neighbor Smith came over to tell “Jeames” 
of the panic that had been created in his pasture 
fields by a most curious-looking object riding 
a white horse. Then Ned told all. But as 
Dolinda was half sick and very feverish, she 
was not punished, as she, no doubt, deserved to 
be. 

Father said: “Remember I owe thee a 

33 


Dolinda and the Twins 


trouncing; and the next time thee gets into 
trouble Fll give thee two, instead of one/' 

The following day mamma sent the Twins 
for the wrapper. [Dolinda couldn't walk.] 
When it was produced it was found to be ut- 
terly ruined, for it had become mildewed in 
many places. Dolinda's head hung low, as she 
explained how she had tried to show the Twins 
what “Death on the white horse" looked like. 

That was long ago, and now Dolinda, who 
has little girls herself to look after, sometimes 
goes into the Academy of Fine Arts in Phila- 
delphia just to take a look at West's famous 
painting — the picture which had impressed her 
so strangely in her childhood. 


34 


Ill 

“Duggie” and the Ghost 



" I^uggie” and the Ghost. 


Ill 

^^Duggie^^ and the Ghost 

^^Duggie^'' was always at it. No matter 
where Belinda and the Twins wanted to go, 
‘'Duggie’' was sure to follow. If she had been 
older they would not have objected, but as it 
was, she always made trouble. One cold win- 
ter morning, for instance, Ned, the Twins, and 
Belinda started for “Beach Bluff,” to slide on 
the ice. They had gotten up very quietly and 
did not know that “Buggie” was awake when 
they slipped out of the nursery. But the sly 
little “possum” was out of her trundle-bed in 
a jiffy. She put her stockings on and stuck her 
37 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

feet in her shoes, though she didn't know how 
to fasten them. She put on a jacket over her 
night-gown, and out into the snow she went. 
She tried to follow the tracks that the others 
had made, but the snow was deep, and before 
long she had lost both shoes. But she was 
plucky, so kept on, until, benumbed with the 
cold, she could go no further. 

After a jolly frolic on the ice Ned, the 
Twins, and Dolinda started for home. Under 
the persimmon tree they saw a red patch of 
something shining bright against the white 
snow. When they reached it, they found it was 
poor little “Duggie,” in her red jacket. She 
was stiff with cold, and it was with much diffi- 
culty that they got her home. Then there was 
a great commotion, for the child was almost 
dead. This time father really turned in and 
''tanned their jackets” for them in earnest; 
though for the life of them they couldn't un- 
38 


^'Duggie” and the Ghost. 


derstand why. But they knew it was all ‘^Dug- 
gie’s” fault. So Dolinda and the Twins deter- 
mined to put a stop to it in some way. 

^‘We’ll have to scare her,” said Dolinda. 

“Yes, we will,” assented Gertie. 

“We will,” added Beulah. 

But how ? Ghosts — that was it. They 
would tell her the ghosts would catch her if 
she followed them any more. But “Duggie” 
only laughed, saying: 

“You do first, so dey’ll tetch you Tore dey 
tetch me.” 

After putting their heads together Dolinda 
and the Twins devised a plan whereby they 
could give “Duggie” such a good scare that 
she'd never again follow them. 

The house they lived in was a great ram- 
bling, old-fashioned stone house built in the 
early Colonial days. At the north side was the 
back parlor. In the summer time this was a 
39 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


cool room, but in the winter it was so cold that 
it was never used. In fact, during the very 
bitter weather the shutters were not even 
opened. From a little recess in this room went 
up a back stairway. Now the youngsters 
planned to go through this dark room when- 
ever they wanted to go upstairs, and each time 
“Duggie’' attempted to follow, they would 
warn her about the ghosts. If she still per- 
sisted in following, then one of them was to 
dress up as a ghost and “appear” to the others. 

At last all was ready. Dolinda was to be the 
ghost because she was the tallest. She took the 
ironing-board and covered it with a sheet. 
Then she rubbed phosphorous from matches all 
over the front of it and stood behind the stair- 
case. The door opened. In came the Twins, 
with “Duggie” in the rear. 

“Go back, I say,” said one Twin; ^“the 
ghosts will catch you.” 


40 



“A great, rambling, old-fashioned building.” 

Lilac Grove,” the Harvey Homestead, Lower Merion, Montgomery Co., Pa. 

Built, 1700. 





_JP* « 


'‘Duggie” and the Ghost. 


‘Go back,” said the other; “the ghosts will 
surely catch you.” 

But “Duggie” laughed a funny little laugh 
and again said: 

“Me ain’t afraid. You do first and dey’ll 
tetch you ’fore dey tetch me.” 

“Mind, we warn you !” cried the Twins. 

“Me ain’t afraid,” answered “Duggie.” 

With that the trio crossed the room towards 
the stairs. There was a rustling sound, and 
suddenly in front of them stood a towering 
shape in white, while fire seemed to flash forth 
from it. It was Dolinda behind the ironing- 
board ! 

The Twins shrieked apparently in terror, 
but poor little “Duggie’s” terror was not as- 
sumed. Her cries were so frightful that the 
Twins tried to stop them by holding her mouth, 
while Dolinda fled with the sheet and the iron- 
ing-board. In a few moments all the members 
4f 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


of the household were gathered about the cry- 
ing children. Dolinda had joined them, and 
yelled as badly as any of them, for she was 
frightened almost to death. Some one carried 
“Duggie"’ upstairs, while Felix was despatched 
for a doctor. The poor little youngster had 
one spasm after another, and in the interim she 
would cry : 

“Dere tomes de dhost ! See it ! See it !’' 

“What does the child mean?'' asked father. 
“Did thee see what frightened her?" he con- 
tinued, turning to the others. 

“Yes," sobbed the Twins. “We saw a 
ghost. We saw a ghost !" 

“And thee, Dolinda? Did thee see it, too?" 

“No, father; I was so blinded that I didn't 
see anything at all," she sobbed. [Of course 
she hadn't, for her head was under the sheet.] 

“Brain fever, caused by a severe shock of 
some sort," said the doctor. But no light could 
42 


‘^Duggie” and the Ghost. 


be gained as to the cause of the fright. For 
days poor little ‘‘Duggie's'^ life hung in the 
balance. 

Three pale little children sat on the back 
stairs weeping. Three sad little children cried 
out in their grief : 

“O God, don’t take ‘Duggie’ to Heaven. 
We’ll let her follow us all the time — ’deed we 
will, if she’ll on’y get well again.” 

After some days there was a change for the 
better, and the edge of the Twins’ grief began 
to wear off. But Dolinda was heartbroken^ 
and when the others would say: “If 'Dug- 
gie’ dies, and you are found out, you’ll be 
hung,” she would almost die of fright. 

“You’re to blame as much as I am!” she’d 
cry fiercely. 

“No, we’re not; for we didn’t play ghost 
and you did.” 

Now Dolinda had one precious possession.. 

43 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


It was the ‘'Life of George Washington” (Il- 
lustrated). It was dear to her childish heart. 
She followed with rapt attention the career of 
the “Father of His Country” from his earliest 
boyhood to the day of his death. She was 
especially delighted to learn of his exploits in 
and around Merion. She visited, with the 
Twins and Margery, the field where his army 
encamped (just above Merion Meeting — now 
marked by a memorial stone, erected by Merion 
Chapter, D. A. R.), five days before the Mas- 
sacre of Paoli, in September, 1777. 

She would have parted with her pet “shin- 
ny,” or even her old striped cat, that she 
loved so dearly, rather than have parted with 
this book. The Twins knew this, consequently 
coveted the book. Often, when Dolinda was 
in a scrape and liable to have her “jacket 
tanned” if found out, one of them would say: 


44 



DM THIS ADJACENT. 
..CWWASHJHCTON'SARMY^ 


.-,v ' 

CHq|^0 



I"'*'*"'’ «'‘«MBEg „ 

■•“2hs"'"- P- -Vi'- 

— •'Asfc;®^: . 






Memorial stone erected by Merion Chapter, D. A. R., to mark the spot where 
Washington’s army encamped, September 14, 1777, five days before the massacre 
of Paoli. 




[ ’m~' : 

» , -s 




'V 




1 



« 









V 

I • 


3 ^ ^ - 

I 


¥ 



r. . T 










i' 


f 


I 7 






V 


‘‘Duggie” and the Ghost. 


‘‘I won’t tell if you give me George Wash- 
ington.’ ” 

At this Dolinda would boldly retort: ‘Go 
ahead and tell” — or she would sing in defiance 

‘‘7 " elltale tit, your tongue shall he slit, 

And all the dogs in our town 
Shall have a little bit/* 

But this time when the Twins said, “We’ll 
tell that you scared ‘Duggie’ to death, if you 
don’t give us George Washington,’ ” she suc- 
cumbed. The thought of hanging was too 
much for her, so she sorrowfully went to her 
“secey-hole” (as the youngsters called the 
places where each one hid her treasures se- 
cretly), and brought forth her beloved “George 
Washington.” She turned the leaves tenderly, 
and looked at the pictures, and re-read her 
favorite parts. The tears poured silently down 
45 


Belinda and the Twins. 


her cheeks as she carried the book to the 
nursery. [Dolinda’s tears, when she cried, 
ran a flood, and one of her nicknames on this 
account was “Tear-bags.’’] Without one word 
she marched up to Gertie and handed her the 
book, and turned to leave the room. 

“Come back here,” Gertie called. “You’ve 
got to write my name in it, or maybe you’ll 
want to take it away from me some time.” 

Dolinda’s eyes blazed with scorn as she said : 
"“I’m no Tnjun giver.’ ” 

But Gertie was relentless. “If you don’t 
write my name in it, you can take it back,” 
she called in a menacing tone, “and I know 
what will happen.” 

Tell, of course. Dolinda knew what she 
meant, so she consented. With tears still 
streaming down her cheeks she took the pen 
and wrote, at Gertie’s dictation: 


46 


''Duggie” and the Ghost. 


^'To the Twins, from their loving Sister, 
DolindaT 

When this was done the child had a feeling 
very like that of a martyr come over her. It 
was her custom to make the best of a matter if 
it was inevitable, so pulling herself together, 
she said: 

“Never mind; the next time I go to town 
father will buy me a new book.'' But though 
.she has had many books on the life of George 
Washington since then, none ever seemed quite 
the same as that old one with its “dog-eared" 
leaves. 

After a time “Duggie" was out of danger 
:and could sit up in bed. Then they let the 
other youngsters go in to see her. Dolinda 
went very reluctantly, for she feared the truth 
must be known. However, she carried a gift 
in her hand — a 25-cent piece which she had 
47 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

saved for months. As soon as she entered 
the door she marched straight up to the bed 
and presented the money, saying: ^‘It’s all 
for you, ‘Duggie.' 

*'Duggie’’ laughed with joy, and the ghost 
wasn’t even mentioned, so the ordeal Do- 
linda dreaded passed off happily. But some 
time later when “Duggie” ran around the 
house as usual, and the ghost was almost for- 
gotten, Dolinda longed for her quarter back 
again, but she never said so. Poor Dolinda! 
That escapade caused her great sorrow. She 
lost her two fondest possessions, and suf- 
fered terrible pangs of conscience for fright- 
ening her little sister. She learned her lesson, 
for she never again would join in any frolic or 
sport whereby another was to be scared or ter- 
rified. 


48 


IV 

Dolinda’s First Letter 


49 


Dolinda’s First Letter. 


IV 


DoIinda^s First Letter 

How Dolinda did wish that she could get 
a letter. Why couldn’t somebody write to 
her? She was in despair. She felt that she 
was getting to be quite a big girl now. [She 
was eight.] Everybody, when they grew up, 
got letters. How she used to walk to the post- 
office and ask for one, every chance she got. 
She laughs now as she recalls it all. There 
she was, a tall, slim, tow-headed youngster, 
trudging over the dusty road. [She reminded 
one of a baby-colt, when one remembers her at 
that age. She seemed to have a little body, 
with long legs attached. In fact, she seemed 
nearly all legs.] 


51 


Belinda and the Twins. 


She would walk all the way to Merionville, 
a mile or more distant. Merionville was a 
quaint settlement not far from the ‘‘General 
Wayne'' and Merion Meeting. It was com- 
posed of a general store, a blacksmith and a 
wheelwright shop, a few houses, and the toll- 
gate. The road leading to the “Academy" 
(where many famous men of Pennsylvania 
went to school as boys) branches off from the 
Old Lancaster Road at Merionville. Merion 
and Merionville were named after the Welsh 
hero, Merion, of Merionethshire, Wales. This 
section of Pennsylvania is called the “Welsh 
Tract," because it was settled by a number of 
Welsh colonists who came over on the “Ship 
Lyon," and landed at Pencoyd, on the Schuyl- 
kill, August 14, 1682, two months before Wil- 
liam Penn landed. Belinda's ancestor, Dr. 
Edward Jones, was one of the most famous of 
these colonists. 


52 


t 



Lower Merion Academy, Montgomery Co., Pa, 








Dolinda’s First Letter. 


How Dolinda would fly! She didn’t want 
anybody to know where she went. When she 
reached the store (it was a regular old-fash- 
ioned country, post-office), her little heart 
would beat furiously, but she would walk 
boldly in and say : ‘"Any letters for Miss Do- 
linda Mix to-day?” 

Dolinda smiles now as she remembers how 
that clerk went gravely over all the letters. 
He would look up quietly and say : ‘^None to- 
day. Did you expect anything important?” 

'^Guess it’ll come to-morrow,” she would say 
as she’d start for home. 

Once, after serious thought, she concluded 
that maybe nobody knew that she wanted a 
letter. The best thing, then, for her to do was 
to write to some one. So she accordingly 
wrote to all her relations. But that failed, 
too. Letters came to mamma with a little note 
inside ‘Tor Dolinda.” How provoked she 
53 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

was ! “For Dolinda” kept coming in mamma’s 
letters till she just wouldn’t read any more 
of them. If she couldn’t have a real letter of 
her own she didn’t want any! 

Just at this time mamma was going to the 
city and took Dolinda with her. They went 
and stayed over night at an aunt’s. What a 
jolly time she had with her cousins ! Mamma 
and auntie were going out to spend the even- 
ing, and while they were gone the children did 
everything they could think of to have a good 
time. When the little ones grew tired they 
were taken off to bed, while Charlie (the eld- 
est) and Dolinda were allowed to sit up and 
wait for mamma and auntie to return. 

After a while Dolinda thought of her griev- 
ance and asked Charlie why he hadn’t written 
to her. 

“Well, I did,” he said, “but pa said I must 
send it in his letter.” 


54 


Dolinda’s First Letter. 


‘'Suppose you write me one now,” said she. 
“You can run out and post it and then it will 
come while I am here.” 

“All right,” he cried. He was as happy to 
be the writer as she was to be the receiver. 
They searched around until they found the 
necessary things, then the work began. 

How he did work ! He wouldn't let Dolinda 
help him either. Not that she wanted him to 
do so, for she felt that it wouldn’t be a real 
letter if she knew what she was going to be in 
it. 

After much effort it was at last finished. 
Then he climbed up on a chair to dry the en- 
velope over the top of the lamp chimney. 

“Oh, Charlie, you’re burnin’ it!” she cried. 

He jerked it away quickly and somehow lost 
his balance. Down he came with a crash I 
Over went the lamp! Smash went the globe! 

Never shall Dolinda forget how she stood 
55 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


there trembling in the dark — for the light went 
out — not so much because the lamp was broken, 
and perhaps ever so much damage done, but she 
was afraid her letter was destroyed. Charlie 
quickly gathered himself together and 
scrambled to his feet. He ran to the kitchen 
for another lamp. Goodness! Dolinda will 
never forget what that sitting-room looked like 
when he came back with a light. 

The lamp was not broken, but the chimney 
and shade were. Glass lay all over the floor. 
Books and papers were splashed with ink. 
Charlie ran upstairs after Susan and she came 
down to help them. To be sure she scolded all 
the time she was about it, but they didn’t mind 
that much. 

After working for a while everything looked 
a little better, only, of course, they couldn’t 
mend the lamp or rub the ink stains off. Af- 


56 


Dolinda’s First Letter. 


ter order had been restored they examined 
their letter. 

There it was, addressed in great scrawling 
letters which reached from the upper left-hand 
corner to the lower right-hand one. 

'’‘’Miss Derlinder Mix/* 

with the number of the house beneath. The 
envelope was splashed with ink, and pretty 
well scorched, but as there was no more ink 
and no more envelopes they had to make it do. 

“Now fer a stamp said Charlie. 

“A stamp V* cried Dolinda. “Why, I hadn’t 
thought of that!” 

“But you’ll hafter have a stamp,” said he. 
“All pa’s letters does.” 

Yes, she remembered on reflection that all 
their letters at home did have stamps on them. 

“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” said Charlie; 

57 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

“I’ll get one off an old letter of pa’s, and the 
postman won’t know, ’cause it’s dark.” 

Capital idea! No sooner said than done, 
or rather attempted. They tried lots of letters 
before they found a stamp that would come off. 
Then to their disappointment, when they did 
get one that came off, they found it had no 
“stickey” on it, and they couldn’t make it stay 
on that precious letter. 

“Letter-writin’ ain’t no easy job, is it?” said 
Charlie. 

Dolinda had about arrived at the same con- 
clusion, but she wouldn’t give up, so she went 
to the pantry and got some flour (they couldn’t 
help spilling some; it just went and dropped 
on the floor itself, so it did!), and made some 
paste, and, after several attempts, finally suc- 
ceeded in making the stamp stick. 

Then they ran to the corner and dropped it 
in the box. How her heart beat when she 
58 


Dolinda’s First Letter, 


thought that, at last, she was really going ta 
get a letter. 

They both got up early next morning so as 
to be ready when the postman came with the 
mail. When the bell rang, they ran, pell mell, 
to the door. When they got there they found 
a great burly postman. 

‘T came to see about this letter,’’ he said. 

'‘It’s for me,” said Dolinda, with all the dig- 
nity she could command. 

“It is, is it?” said he. “I’ll ‘me’ you if I 
catch you putting any more letters in that box. 
Do you see that policeman?” and he pointed 
to the corner. “Well, he’s waitin’ to ’rest 
whichever one of you go a-past to-day.” 

They looked, and as they looked, the police- 
man turned and came up the street towards 
them. Away they scampered! Upstairs they 
flew! Dolinda didn’t know where Charlie 
went, but she ran under the spare-room bed. 

59 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

Nothing could induce her to come out till 
mamma was ready to go home. She had never 
known anything about policemen, only she 
thought they were terrible monsters, and stole 
all the children they could catch. 

She went home gladly, but up under her little 
waist she hugged her letter. She hadn’t read 
it yet, she’d been afraid. That night she opened 
it. (How proud she felt! She was far away 
from the policeman now, and very brave.) 

It began : 

^^DEAR DOLiNDER — i tak Up pen fer ter let you 
no i am wel & hop you is same.” 

Not much sentiment about that, but she felt 
perfectly happy, all the same. 

The next time she went to the store she made 
it a point to tell the post-office clerk that she 
"‘didn’ expect no letters ; all my letters goes to 
my aunt’s.” 


60 


Dolinda's First Letter. 

Not long ago, when sitting up in the garret 
at home, looking through some old worn school 
books, Dolinda found her first letter. What a 
looking object! From the description given 
you may have guessed a little of its condition, 
but no description could do it full justice. Her 
poor little letter! 

Dolinda remembered often wondering how 
that postman knew they put the letter in the 
box. She finally concluded that he must be 
able to tell whether any one was deceiving him 
or not — that God must tell him. When she 
came across the poor, inky, pasty, crumpled, 
scorched little letter years after, she could not 
help laughing heartily. No wonder he knew! 
This set her thinking. We poor mortals, chil- 
dren of a day, do things just as foolish as this, 
over and over again. We try to cover up what 
we do, thinking that we may deceive God as 
well as the children of our own age. Could 
6i 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


we but see how we appear to Him, would we 
attempt it again ? Our deceit is as plain to Him 
as was the fact to that postman that they, to 
whom the letter was addressed, were the ones 
who had written it. 


ei 


V 

Dolinda’s Thefts 


63 



Dolinda’s Thefts. 


V 


DoIinda^s Thefts 

‘‘Oh, my ! Isn’t that lovely !” cried Dolinda, 
clasping her little hands together in delight, 
as she gazed at the beautiful new writing-desk 
which her aunt had sent to her sister Margery, 

“I wonder why nobody ever sends mewritin’- 
desks and things,” mused she. “’Course I don’t 
write, and Margery do, but I might, if I had 
a desk. My! What be-u-ti-ful colored stuff I” 
she exclaimed, as she handled the red, green, 
and blue sealing wax. “Wonder what’s it for? 
I guess I’ll ask Margery.” 

So off she trotted in search of her sister, to 
ask all about the red, green, and blue sticks. 

65 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


You meddlesome little imp, have you been at 
my desk?’^ cried Margery in a rage, when Do- 
linda put the question to her. 

didn’t do nothin’ to it,” said Dolly, with 
tears in her voice as well as her eyes. "1 only 
looked, and looked, and looked at it.” 

‘^You know you are telling a story, so there !” 
replied Margery, angrily. 

‘‘1 didn’t!” said Dolinda; then, after a 
pause: “Yes, I did, though; I put out my 
finger — so — just touching a red stick to see if 
it was soft, but it wasn’t. ’Deed, Margery, I 
didn’t hurt it,” she said, as she caught her sis- 
ter’s dress. 

“Let go o’ me ! I do wish I never had a sis- 
ter, so I do ! You are nothing but a nuisance !” 
cried Margery as she ran off, leaving Dolinda 
alone. 

“Our Margie’s hateful, and I don’t care! 
I’m goin’ to take some of the sticks of stuff for 
66 


Dolinda’s Thefts. 


myself, so I am! Mamma’ll say it’s stealin’, 
but I don’t care if it is 1 Margie’s got no right 
to get everything, and put on such airs ’cause 
she does 1” 

Thus mused Dolinda, as she went back to the 
room where the coveted desk was. She peeped 
in, and then closing the door after her, stepped 
softly over to the table, lifted the cover, and 
gazed longingly at the contents. Just then 
she heard a step. ‘^Shall I?” she thought. 
‘‘Yes, I will 1” and she hastily snatched a red 
stick of the sealing wax and crept under the 
bed. 

In came Margery. She looked at the desk, 
but as she had not counted the sticks, she did 
not miss the one Dolinda had taken. 

“I’ll hide this,” said she, “or that meddle- 
some Dolly will touch things,” and off she went 
with the desk. 

Meanwhile little Dolinda was wondering 
67 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


what she should do with her treasure now that 
she had it. At last she poked it in her bosom, 
inside her waist — then came out from her hid- 
ing-place. She went downstairs, trying to look 
very innocent and unconcerned, but she was. 
both uncomfortable and unhappy. 

“What’s the use of havin’ things if you can’t 
use ’em?” she thought. Then she’d feel to see 
if it was safe. 

It was a hot summer day. After a little 
while the heat from her body began to melt 
the wax — she felt very uneasy, but did not 
have an opportunity to take it out, for every- 
body seemed to be following her and watching 
her. 

guilty conscience needs no accuser T 

The warmer it grew, the more the wax 
melted. She felt it sticking to her breast, and 
she was very, very unhappy, indeed! By and 


68 


Dolinda’s Thefts. 


by she lay down on the lounge and cried herself 
to sleep. 

‘Toor child/’ said her mamma, “something 
is the matter with her — she must be sick;” so 
she darkened the windows and let her sleep. 
Dolinda was restless and turned about and 
finally lay with her face in the pillow. This 
position caused the wax to melt still more, 
and lying on it made it spread all over her 
bosom. 

When she awoke she felt worse than before 
she had gone to sleep, but she did not dare to 
open her clothes and take the sealing wax out. 

“It’s no good, nohow !” she said to herself, 
■“and I wish I never saw it, so I do!” 

That was the longest afternoon she ever 
spent. At last night drew near and Kate came 
to get the children ready for bed. First she 
undressed “Duggie,” then the Twins. Turn- 
ing to Dolinda, she said : 

69 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


*'Come, Dolinda, it is time to go to bed/’ 

“Well, ril go bimeby,'' she answered. 

“Come, let me undress you,'’ said Kate. 

“No, ril undress without you," replied Do- 
linda. “I’m big ’nough to ’tend to myself 
now.’’ 

But Kate insisted, and Dolly held back till 
at last it came to a regular pitch battle. The 
nurse, being the stronger, won. Dolinda stood 
crying while Kate took her clothing off, piece 
by piece. When she came to the last little 
waist she found it stuck fast to the skin. 
When she pulled it, Dolinda cried. At last she 
succeeded in getting it off. 

“What on earth is this, Dolinda?’’ asked 
she in surprise, as she saw a great patch of red 
sticking fast to the child’s breast. 

“Won’t tell,’’ sobbed Dolinda; but when 
Kate attempted to remove it, it hurt so badly 


70 


Dolinda’s Thefts. 


that Dolinda told the whole story, between her 
sobs. 

After repeatedly heating the wax it finally 
came off, but with it came a piece of Dolly’s 
flesh. And as she still carries the scar on her 
bosom she is not likely to forget her experi- 
ence. 

Twice after this Dolinda took what did not 
belong to her, but each time she came to grief, 
so she learned that it never pays to take what 
we have no right to. 

One day her mamma had a large basket of 
great, beautiful peaches. She intended preserv- 
ing them. She gave each child a peach, and 
then said to Dolinda quietly: 

^‘Take these peaches and put them in the sit- 
ting-room closet, or they’ll all be gone before I 
can put them up.” 

Off Dolinda started with the basket. She 
couldn’t help admiring the lovely pink-cheeked 
7f 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


fruit as she went. Then, after she had placed 
the basket in the closet she thought she’d just 
finger them a little. The more she looked at 
them, the more she wanted one. Finally she 
said to herself : 

‘T know mamma would let me have another 
if I were to ask her. But, of course, she 
couldn’t give everybody one. Guess I’ll take 
one, and it won’t be stealin’, ’cause I can tell 
her afterwards.” 

She picked out the loveliest one she could 
find and ate it with a relish. Just as she was 
finishing it, in bounced the Twins. Dolinda 
hastily put the remains of the peach, stone and 
all, into her mouth. 

“Hello ! Dolinda,” they cried. “We’ve been 
huntin’ you everywhere ! Are you coming out 
to play?” 

Dolinda moved the big peach-kernel around 
with her tongue so she could answer. But her 

72 


Dolinda’s Thefts. 


voice was so muffled that the Twins said in 
surprise : 

“What’s the matter?” 

Again she tried to answer, when, oh, hor- 
rors! the big peach-kernel slipped down into 
her throat and stuck there. She grew black 
in the face and made frantic efforts to tell the 
Twins what was the matter, but they couldn’t 
understand. One ran for mamma while the 
other tried to lift Dolinda up, for she had fallen 
on the floor. Mamma soon discovered that 
-something was lodged in the child’s throat. 
She couldn’t get it up, but finally succeeded in 
forcing it down. Dolinda was quite ill for sevr 
eral hours, but after she felt better she told 
her mother what she had done, and promised 
never to do it again. But once after that she 
yielded to temptation and again came to grief. 

Mamma used to make a very nice sort of 
“cookie” for the children to eat. She always 
73 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

had maple sugar to make them with, and the 
youngsters delighted to pick out the little hard 
lumps of sugar, when they happened to be near 
on baking day. One afternoon Dolinda went 
to the pantry to look for something and sud- 
denly thought of the maple sugar. Being ig- 
norant of the kind of a box that the sugar came" 
in she began to look through all the things on 
the shelf. At last she opened a little box filled 
with something soft, and of a light yellow color. 
The sugar ! Now for a spoon ! She ran to the 
dresser drawer and took out a tablespoon. 

“ni just press the spoon in as hard as I can, 
so it’ll hold a lot, and then I’ll put it in my 
mouth, and run; then nobody’ll know.” 

So, standing in the closet she pressed and 
pressed the spoon into the sugar (as she sup- 
posed), until it was full, then throwing her 
head away back, she opened her mouth wide 
and put the spoon as far back as possible. Im 
74 


Dolinda’s Thefts. 


an instant she had her mouth full of — mus- 
tard! Oh! how it burned! She sneezed and 
coughed and strangled. It burned horridly, 
for it stuck to the roof and sides of her mouth. 
Her ears tingled and stung, and tears rained 
from her eyes. She suffered so that she ran to 
the pump and tried to wash it out, but wetting 
the mustard only made it burn more. Then 
she fled, crying, to her mother, and again 
‘^’fessed up.” 

This time she was cured for certain. When- 
ever she was tempted after that she remem- 
bered that she had always come to grief, so 
did not yield. 

‘^Honesty is the best policy,” even in the 
smallest things, was one of her mottoes ever 
after. 


75 



VI 


“Co,’ Boss! Co’l 


y I >> 


77 


/ 


“Co* Boss! Co’!' 


VI 

"Co', Boss! Co’!" 

It was the evening of Thanksgiving Day. 
Mother, father, and “Duggie” had gone away 
to spend the afternon, and were not expected 
back until late in the evening. Margery,, the 
eldest daughter, was reading Browning, and 
she felt herself far superior to the other young- 
sters, who didn’t even know of the existence of 
such a poet, so she sat in state in the parlor, 
while the others, a jolly crowd, studied their 
lessons at the center table in the sitting-room. 

Uncle Ned was asleep in his easy-chair, and 
the buzz of the little voices only made a pleas- 
.ant accompaniment to his dreaming. 

Margery thought herself a great lady. She 
79 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


never paid any attention whatever to the com- 
mon, every-day things of life — they were be- 
neath her ! So she sat and read, while the fire 
smoldered, and, for the lack of attention, finally 
went out. Then the room grew quite cold, and 
the young miss began to shiver. She therefore 
gathered up her books and went out into the 
sitting-room, where the others were. 

Ned, the Twins, and Dolinda, were having 
a royal time. There had been an entertain- 
ment at school shortly before this, when an 
elocution teacher had read a most interesting 
selection, in which the farm boy calls to his 
cows : 

“Co'j boss! Co\boss! Co' I .Co’ I Co'!"^ 

Dolinda was going over the verses, to the 
amusement of the others, trying to imitate, as 
nearly as possible, the tones of the teacher. 

*'Co', boss! Co', boss! Co'! Co'! Co'!"^ 
cried she. 


80 


^‘Co’, Boss! Co’l’ 


Margery entered with her Browning, pushed 
Jamie and Charlie back from the table, so as 
to get more light for herself, then said, in a 
commanding voice : 

' “Make less noise. I wish to read.” 

“Go back where you came from,” retorted 
Ned. “We don’t want you here!” 

But she turned to Dolinda and said: 

“Sit down this instant and keep quiet.” 

“I haven’t finished my declamation.” (She 
had learned the proper word.) 

“Uncle,” cried Margery, “won’t you please 
wake up and make these children keep quiet? 
I can’t read a word for them.” 

Uncle raised his head, blinked his eyes, and 
said : 

“Be quiet this minute! Sit down there, 
Dolinda. Thee’s always up to some mischief.” 

Down she sat and for a few moments all was 
still. Six little heads were bunched together 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

in a whispered consultation. Then Uncle 
dozed again, and the youngsters began to buzz, 
softly at first, then louder : 

^Twice one are two; twice two are four; 
twice three are six; twice four are eight ’’ 

“If you don't keep quiet. I'll call uncle 
again and he'll punish you; do you hear?" 
snapped Margery. 

“Why didn't you stay where you were?" 
asked Dolinda. “It was quiet enough in there, 
wasn't it?" 

“But it was cold " began Margie. 

“Bet you let the fire out," said Ned. 

“/ let it out! It wasn't my fire!" retorted 
Margie. 

“You lazy thing," said one Twin. 

“Yes; you lazy thing," added the other. 

Silence for a few moments, then buzz, buzz 
again of the little voices. 


82 


“Co’, Boss! Co’!” 


“Uncle,"’ again cried Margery, “won’t you 
please make these children keep quiet?” 

boss! C&, boss! Co\f Co\f Co\f’^ 
called Belinda, with her open hand to the side 
of her mouth, as she had seen Felix do when 
calling the cows. “Co’, boss!'' 

Uncle jumped up from his chair in anger. 
Why couldn’t they let him sleep in comfort 
and peace ! 

“I’ll trounce thee, every one, and send thee 
to bed,” he cried, “if I hear another word.” 

“But, uncle,” they began in one voice, “we 
were all right till Margery came and spoilt all 
our pleasure! Why don’t you say something 
to her?” 

“Uncle, they have been acting like heathens,” 
Margery began. 

“Co\boss! Co', 6o.y.y.'”called Dolinda in de- 
fiance. 

Uncle started up from his chair again, but 

83 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

Dolinda dodged into the cellar-way. Then he 
bolted the door and she was locked out in the 
dark and cold. 

Confusion reigned in the room for a few 
moments, then all was quiet. Dolinda knew 
from the sounds that she heard that all the 
other youngsters had fled. She could hear the 
patter, patter of their feet on the stairs over- 
head. Then all was silence. How her little 
heart swelled with indignation ! No doubt 
uncle had gone to sleep again and Margie had 
the room to herself. “Hateful thing,” said Do- 
linda. “Fd like to — oh! Fd like to do some- 
thing to her !” She began to shiver there in the 
cold and dark. Then putting her little lips to- 
the keyhole she yelled in a shrill voice: 

''Cusha calling — co\ boss! Co\ boss!^^ 

Silence in the room. Perhaps they hadn’t 
heard, so she tried again, louder: 

“Co’, boss! Co\ boss! Co’ , boss!” 

84 


Boss! Co’l’ 


They heard that time, she knew, for she 
caught the sound of some one moving. So 
with all her lungs she again yelled : 

^‘Co\ boss! Co' , boss! Co', boss!" 

Suddenly the door opened and Uncle made 
one grab for the youngster. She knew then 
that he was angry, and hastily fled down the 
stairs into the dark cellar. She never dreamed 
he would follow her, and visions of spending 
the night down there in the dark with rats and 
roaches and ‘^things’’ danced through Do- 
linda’s brain. But what was that ? Uncle was 
coming I Yes, he was after her ! She fled, first 
one way and then the other. If she could only 
find some place to hide, for she knew she’d get 
her ‘^jacket tanned” this time sure enough! 
At last she saw that the window over the coal- 
pile was open, so she ran toward it, and tried 
to climb up to it, but she kept slipping down 


85 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

into the coal. Uncle heard the noise in the 
coal, and instantly located her. 

Dolinda frantically tried to reach the win- 
dow, and finally succeeded. She made a leap 
and caught the sides of the frame and tried to 
squeeze herself through it. Just as she was 
half-way out. Uncle caught her foot. She 
kicked wildly and drew herself up on her 
knees. One instant more and she’d be free!. 
— but alas! a great nail sticking in the top of 
the window-frame where one of the hinges 
was loose, caught the back of her dress where 
the belt fastens. There she was, securely held. 
Uncle picked up a long stick and ‘hvarmed” 
her while the nail held her in position! Do- 
linda pulled with all her might and main. The 
dress gave way and out she scampered, leaving 
her skirt behind her. When she was outside 
and beyond the reach of Uncle’s stick she 
turned and called down the window: 

86 


“Co’, Boss! Co’!’ 


*‘Co\ boss! Co\ boss! Co'! Co'! Co'!" 

She fled around the house, and the Twins, 
who were on the alert, let her in the front door. 
Then up to bed she crept. Meanwhile Mar- 
gery read Browning and Uncle dozed. Of 
course, when mother and father came home 
they were told how unruly and wicked the chil- 
dren had been — especially Dolinda. 

Next morning when her ragged dress and 
blackened clothes were brought forth, Dolinda 
was again punished. She received it with 
Spartan-like composure, but her heart was bit- 
ter over the injustice of it all. Margery had 
caused the trouble; she was a selfish thing! 
They were happy together until she came and 
spoiled everything. Uncle hadn’t objected to 
their noise; if he had, and told them to be 
quiet, they never would have dreamed of dis- 
obeying him, but when she commanded him to 
stop their pleasure, they rebelled. 

87 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


Oh! parents, don’t be too hasty with your 
little ones. Sift things to the bottom and find 
out who is at fault. Don’t punish the wrong 
child; rather let them all go unpunished than 
to err in this direction. Children reason ; they 
feel injustice more than older people do, and 
the bitterness planted in a child’s heart may 
never be blotted out. 


88 


Vll 

Little Heathens 


89 









Little Heathens, 


VII 


Little Heathens 

“Mother^ I have decided to become a mis- 
sionary, and go to convert the heathens/^’ 
Thus spoke Margery one Sunday afternoon 
after returning from Sunday-school. [She had 
lately been going to the Methodist Sunday- 
school at Hestonville, some two miles away. 
Hestonville is a very old settlement. It was 
founded in the early colonial days, by Colonel 
Edward Heston, who fought in the Revolution 
under Washington, and still bears his name.] 

“All right ; when thee’s older,” said mother, 
“thee may do so. Thee is only twelve now.” 

“I am old enough to know that souls are 

9t 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


perishing,” returned Margery in a tragic tone, 
‘'and I feel it is my duty to go to convert 
them.” 

“But, Margery,” said mother, “if thee wants 
to teach the gospel thee may, but thee has a 
good field at home. Why not teach thy little 
brothers and sisters?” 

“They!” replied Margery, in a scornful 
tone, as she waved her hand towards the group 
of youngsters who were drinking in her words 
— “They are heathens past redemption!” 

Mother was shocked, but the yell that rose 
from the fry sounded very like a cry from a 
lot of little heathens. Of course, Margery 
wasn’t permitted to join the missionaries, nor 
did she attempt to convert her brothers and 
sisters. It wouldn’t have done any good if she 
had tried the latter experiment, for, since she 
called them heathens, they determined to act 
like such toward her. 


92 


Little Heathens. 


Margery had once said that a receding or 
retreating chin and underlip [she was study- 
ing physiology] denoted weak intellect, and 
that a protruding underlip was a sign of good 
family. Now, if there was one thing these 
youngsters were proud of it was their family. 
They had learned from early infancy that their 
ancestors came over on the ‘‘Ship Lyon,’’ and 
that the house they lived in was built long be- 
fore the Revolution. 

So this remark of Margery’s [she was sup- 
posed to know almost everything!] set them 
thinking. It was not unusual to see three or 
four youngsters climb up on a table, or on 
chairs, to view their faces in the looking-glass 
to see if their chins and underlips had the 
proper pitch. Everybody laughed at this but 
Margery. She detested them anyhow! She 
had once complained that Kate, who had been 
nurse for years, didn’t call her “Miss,” and 
93 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


mother had actually commanded the maid to 
do so. When the fry heard this they yelled in 
derision, but with solemn faces and voices they, 
hemselves, addressed their elder sister as “Miss 
Margery.” This was kept up until everybody 
joked so about it that Margery was glad even 
to allow Kate to drop the “Miss.” This, per- 
haps, was one of the reasons why she consid- 
ered her brothers and sisters “heathens.” 

One morning Dolinda said to the Twins, 
while she stuck her lower lip out as far as possi- 
ble, and talked in a queer, smothered sort of a 
voice, “Goo’ fam’ly? Goo’ fam’ly?” 

She looked so droll that the Twins roared, 
and did likewise. Then “Duggie,” Ned, Charlie 
and Jamie joined the group and stuck out their 
lips. Then they marched into the sitting-room 
and stood in a row in front of Margery, with 
their lower lips protruding as far as they could 
possibly get them. 


94 


Little Heathens. 


‘‘Goo’ fam’ly? Do we look ’s if we b’long 
to a goo’ fam’ly?” they asked. They kept re- 
peating it until Margery fled to her room. 
Every time they met her on the stairs or in 
the hall they said, “Goo’ fam’ly?” until she 
hated the sound of the words. 

But remembering how she ruined their 
pleasure on Thanksgiving night, and caused 
their “jackets to be tanned,” they kept it up 
like veritable heathens. 

Now, Margery had a slate — a large, fine 
slate — and oh! how Dolinda and the Twins 
loved to write on it. Of course, Margery 
wouldn’t lend it to them, but, nevertheless, 
they often had it, for no matter where she 
hid it, some one would find it. One morning 
Dolinda sat out on the porch drawing the most 
“be-u-tiful picture” [as the Twins said], when 
Margery came out of the house and caught her. 


95 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


“You thief !’^ she cried. “You’ve stolen my 
slate again !” 

“Nope,” said Dolinda, “didn’t steal it; just 
borrowed it!” 

“Goo’ fam’ly!” called the Twins. “Goo’ 
fam’ly I” 

Margery snatched the slate, and hitting Be- 
linda’s head with the corner of the frame, ran 
around the house. “It’s the last time you’ll 
ever see this slate,” she yelled over her 
shoulder. 

“Wish we could have a slate of our very 
own,” they said. It was such a pleasure to use 
a slate because one could rub the pictures off 
and draw more, but when they drew on paper 
that was the end of it. While they were dis- 
cussing the matter, one of the Twins said : 
“There goes Margery down in the garden!. 
Wonder what she’s doing?” 

“You stay here and talk,” said Dolinda,., 

96 


Little Heathens. 


‘'and I’ll creep down to the hedge and see what 
she’s up to!” 

In a few minutes Dolinda came back and 
whispered : “She’s got a spade and is digging 
a great big hole. Bet she’s going to bury her 
slate.” 

Beckoning to the other youngsters, who 
were playing on the lawn, they held a quiet 
confab, then they crept stealthily, like “real 
Indians,” as they put it, down to the box-wood 
hedge, and along it to a clump of lilac bushes, 
where they secreted themselves. Not a word 
was spoken while they watched operations. 

Margery was digging away with all her 
strength. Every now and then she would stop 
and rest on the handle of the spade, while the 
big beads of perspiration rolled off her cheeks. 
The children would nudge each other and grin, 
but they never uttered a sound. They deter- 
mined, as soon as the slate was buried and 
97 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


Margery gone, to go and dig it up and then 
fix the earth all over it as she had left it. 
Then they would go down to the creek, where 
a great beech tree hung over the water, and 
draw — and draw — and draw. This place was 
called “Beech Bluff,” for it was hidden from 
the house by a hillock or bluff. One was to 
watch like a “picket.” They were to take turns 
with the slate, but 

‘^The best laid plans o' mice and men, 
Gan'g aft aglee," 

so the incident terminated very differently. 

At last Margery had the hole ready. She 
wasn't an adept at digging, so the hole, in- 
stead of being flat, was deep in the middle, 
making it funnel-shaped. She laid her precious 
slate in it, then began to cover it with earth. 
Next she smoothed it all off, but it didn’t seem 
flat enough [she probably thought it. would be 
98 


Little Heathens. 


tdiscovered if she didn’t flatten it down more], 
so she began to tread on it; first all around 
the edges, then she stamped on the middle. 
Of course the deep hole under the center of 
the slate made all the weight come on the 
slate itself, and “crash” her foot went through 
it! The cracking of the slate could plainly 
be heard even by the fry hidden in the lilac 
bushes. 

With a heart-breaking cry Margery threw 
herself face downward on the grass. But she 
instantly sprang up, as a wild cry like an In- 
dian “war-whoop” filled the still summer air, 
and the youngsters swarmed about her. With 
flashing eyes and streaming hair she faced 
them. " Fiends r was all she said as she fled 
toward the house. 

Poor Margery ! No wonder she called them 
^‘heathens past redemption !” 

Ned had the spade and in an instant the 

99 


L.pfC. 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

broken slate was taken from its grave. To 
them it was better than before, for now each 
of them had a piece to do as they pleased 
with. 

When Margery told father, he, of course, 
gave them all a lecture. But he bought Mar- 
gery a new slate and told the youngsters they 
might have the pieces of the old one. Dolinda 
[poor Dolinda, who was always in trouble, 
adored her ^‘daddy,” and knew him better, 
perhaps, than any of the others], confided to 
the Twins later that she saw a twinkle in his 
eye and caught a smile around the corners of 
his mouth, when he was lecturing them. Of 
course, he promised them a ‘^tanning,’’ but he 
forgot to give it to them. 


m 


vin 


Nipped in the Bud 


m 



Nipped in the Bud. 


vm 

Nipped in the Bud 

What fun the youngsters had when Mar- 
gery’s first beau put in an appearance! He 
was a chubby lad about nineteen or twenty 
years old, with rosy cheeks and tawny hair. 
At first they wondered what he came for, but 
after a while some one discovered that he sim- 
ply came to call. Of course, they were inter- 
ested, and two or three of them would go and 
sit in the parlor just to hear what was said — 
but they didn’t seem to say anything. One 
evening the Twins went in the room and sat 
prim and straight upon the sofa. Harry [that 
was his name] gave them each a penny, and 
said: ^‘Now run away and put them in your 
bank.” 


m 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

'Off they ran, and when they exhibited the 
pennies to the rest of the youngsters they all 
wished that they had gone in, too. After a 
while “Duggie” slipped away and into the 
parlor she marched. Presently she came back 
with a nickel. It was the Twins’ turn now 
to be jealous. 

“Why don’t you go in, Dolinda?” asked 
Ned. “Stocks is risin’.” [He had evidently 
heard this expression and thought it smart.] 

“I’m too big to accept either pennies or 
nickels from anybody,” Dolinda replied with 
dignity. “But,” she added, after a few mo- 
ments’ reflection, “I’d like to have the fun of 
refusing what he’d offer me.” So in a little 
while she walked carelessly into the parlor. 
Ned, the Twins, and “Duggie” crept down the 
hall stealthily and hid outside the door, so that 
they could hear what transpired within. 

When Dolinda entered she tried to look un- 
t04 


Nipped in the Bud. 


-concerned, but she didn’t exactly know what to 
do, so she sat first on one chair, then moved to 
another, and finally changed over near the open 
grate, where Margery and Harry were sitting. 
Margery was winding a ball of yarn, and he 
was holding the skein. They didn’t pay a bit 
of attention to her, so she volunteered one or 
two remarks about the weather. Presently 
Harry looked at her and said : 

“Your face is very dirty, Dolly; you’d bet- 
ter run and wash it.” 

That Dolinda fled in disgust goes without 
saying. There was an audible titter from the 
hall, and a scampering of feet, and when she 
reached the sitting-room the other youngsters 
fairly yelled in derision. 

“Did you refuse what he gave you, Do- 
linda?” sneered Ned. “Stocks ain’t risin’, 
after all.” 

Poor Dolinda was ready to cry. She was 
i05 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


old enough to feel ashamed of having gone 
where she knew she was not wanted, and also 
to feel mortified that Harry had told her that 
her face was dirty — just as though she were an 
infant like ^'Duggie/^ 

That night when she and the Twins were un- 
dressing she confided to them the awful deter- 
mination she had reached — that she meant to 
humiliate him some day. Her opportunity 
came sooner that she expected. [And let me 
add here that this very humiliation, which was 
brought about by this naughty little girl, prob- 
ably nipped in the bud what might have been; 
a real romance.] 

There was to be a festival at the Sunday- 
school one evening, and the larger children 
were going. Margery and ‘‘Duggie’' started 
off first, and later Dolinda and the Twins came 
along. There had been a heavy rain-storm that 
day, and at one place where two of the village: 

(06 


Nipped in the Bud. 


streets crossed, the whole curb-stone had been 
torn out. The sewer pipe burst and a great 
hole, filled with clay and water, made the cross- 
ing dangerous. Dolinda and the Twins noticed 
this on their way to the church. 

After the festival was over Harry started off 
with Margery. ‘"Duggie” was turned over to 
the others, and on they marched behind the 
two “sweethearts. When they reached the 
crossroads Harry looked back and said: 

“Say, kids, which is the best crossing? 
There seems to be some water here!’^ 

The word “kids” ruffled Dolinda at once. 
She was no kid! That was why he told her 
that her face was dirty. The “Spirit of Mis- 
chief” whispered in her ear, so she replied 
promptly, without a moment's hesitation 
“The first crossing is the best.” 

It was pitch dark and a heavy mist hung 
over all. The Twins were on the point of tell- 

m 


Dolinda and the Twins, 


ing her that she had made a mistake, but she 
nudged them and they ‘‘smelt a raf instantly. 
Margery and Harry turned to cross the street, 
with the youngsters behind them. 

Suddenly there was a splash and a scream. 
Down in the clay-hole fell both Margery and 
Harry. They floundered around some min- 
utes before they could get out, and the young- 
sters said afterward that they heard Harry 

say something that sounded like “D d 

brats,” though Margie declared it was no such 
thing. However, every stitch of clothing they 
had on was ruined. Margery wept over her 
pretty frock, and Dolinda felt conscience- 
stricken, but the naughty little rascal secretly 
rejoiced because of Harry's mishap. His ardor 
cooled with his mud bath, and Dolinda was 
glad of it. No one ever knew how Margery 
felt, but as she soon had another beau it was 
plain to be seen that her heart wasn't broken. 

m 


IX 

Was She a Coward? 


109 




Was She a Coward? 


IX 


Was She a Coward? 

Dolinda was, as we know, one of a large 
family of boys and girls. She was fond of 
play, as most children are, yet she was anxious 
to be of some use in the world — that is, always 
dreaming of what she was going to do some 
day. But there was one thing that kept her 
from doing anything. She was supersensitive. 
If one of the children fell, instead of going to 
the rescue, as she knew she ought, she’d fly to 
some place beyond the reach of the sound of 
his voice and hide, shaking and shivering until 
at last, when she imagined all was quiet, sheM 
venture forth again. The sight of a drop of 

tn 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

blood took all the life out of her. Yes, at that 
time Dolinda certainly was a coward. 

When she was about ten years old mamma 
was very ill, and little hope of her recovery 
was entertained. Kate was caring for mamma, 
and most of her time was spent in the sick 
chamber. Poor Dolinda! She had to stay at 
home and mind the baby, who was about two 
and a half years old. Just at this time the cook 
left, and, of course, Kate's hands were full. 
One day she told Dolinda to keep the younger 
children quiet, and do various other things, 
among which was to watch the kitchen fire,, 
so it wouldn’t go out. 

She was only ten, remember. The sun 
shone, the sky was clear, the grass green. 
The temptation to have a frolic was very great, 
so off she started, dragging baby by the hand. 
On she went across the fields, down to‘‘Wynne- 
stay” (the old house built before the Revo- 
U2 



The original “ Wynnestay,” near Bala, Pa. Built before the Revolution 
by Dr, Thomas Wynne, friend and physician to Wm. Penn. 




Was She a Coward? 

lution by Dr. Thomas Wynne, physician to 
William Penn), for she knew Miss Sallie 
would give her a swing, and Dolinda’s great 
delight was to have someone push her on a 
swing. And, besides, Dolinda loved Miss Sal- 
lie, with her sweet voice and pretty pink 
cheeks. 

She never once thought of the fire till she 
saw the harvesters coming over the hills. 
Goodness! she could scarcely believe it was 
so late. Picking up the baby in her arms, she 
ran at full speed towards home. Sure enough 
the fire was out! She didn’t know what to 
do. If Kate came downstairs and found it was 
out she knew she would be punished — and she 
could not appeal to mamma, either. Well, she 
tried to make it, but it wouldn’t go. There 
was too much paper, too much wood, too much 
draft, or else not enough of any of these. Any- 
how it wouldnft go! 

UZ 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


After struggling with it for some time and 
failing still, an idea struck her. She would 
use kerosene! But what should she do with 
Dick? He was at her heels trying to help. 
Dolinda knew she was about to do something 
very wrong, and, as he tried to imitate every- 
thing, she was afraid if he saw her put oil on 
the fire he might attempt it when no one was 
nigh. 

*'Dick,’' said she, ‘‘can’t you go down in the 
cellar and bring up some chips for sister?” 

He didn’t want to go at all, but she coaxed 
him so hard that he finally started. Dolinda 
can see him yet as he walked across the floor 
in his little red dress, shaking himself and 
shrugging his shoulders. 

“Have to be goin’ down thellar all time,” 
he lisped, in a discontented fashion as he went. 

Dolinda watched him to the cellar door, 
grasped the can, and was about to pour the 
tt4 


Was She a Coward? 


oil in the stove, when, thump! thump! she 
heard him going down the steps. One scream, 
then all was quiet. Now what do you suppose 
she did? Why, dropped the can, tore out the 
back door and never stopped till she reached 
the stable, which was quite a distance from 
the house. What should she do ? She couldn’t 
go back to the house! She was afraid. She 
hadn’t heard any cries; perhaps he was dead! 
Oh, what should she do! She suffered un- 
told agonies in those few seconds. 

Suddenly she seemed to be possessed with 
superhuman strength. She walked boldly into 
the house. As she neared the cellar door her 
courage almost forsook her, but she grasped 
the door- jamb to steady herself, and looked 
down the cellar. There Dick lay in a little red 
heap at the foot of the stairs, still as death. 
[He was stunned by the fall.] Trembling like 
an aspen-leaf she crawled down, and gently 

its 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

turned him over. Oh, heavens! One eye lay 
out on his cheek 1 The corner of the step had 
struck him just under the eye and forced it 
out of the socket. There it hung, with the 
nerves, like white strings, exposed. That was 
the most awful moment Dolinda ever experi- 
enced. The sight appalled her. 

She grasped him in her arms, with his face 
upward. She pressed the eye back into its 
place and held it there with her hand — she did 
it instinctively, to shut out the sight more than 
anything else. What to do she did not know. 
Just then one of the boys came in and she called 
to him, and told him to go at once for the doc- 
tor. Fortunately, he met the doctor coming 
up the lane — he was on his way to see mamma. 

Dolinda was still crouching on the steps 
with her hand over the poor baby’s eye, won- 
dering how she should ever tell mamma. 


Was She a Coward? 


When the doctor came, she explained it all as 
well as she could. 

‘‘Lift up your hand,” he said. 

“Oh, I can't,” she cried; “his eye is out!” 

“But you must,” he replied firmly, and tak- 
ing her by the wrist, lifted her hand. 

She closed her eyes for an instant. On look- 
ing she found, to her surprise, that the baby’s 
eye seemed to be all right. After examining 
it carefully, the doctor proceeded to restore the 
little fellow to consciousness. Dick opened his 
big black eyes and stared at them. 

“It’s all right,” said the doctor, “and you 
are a brave little soldier. If you had not 
pressed the eye back into its place, and he had 
moved or tossed about, he would, evidently, 
have broken the nerves and tendons, and your 
poor little brother would have lost an eye.” 
Then patting Dolinda on the back he lifted 
Dick in his arms and carried him upstairs. 

U7 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

After that she never looked into her little 
brother’s eyes without breathing a prayer of 
thankfulness that she had courage given her 
to return to her post, instead of fleeing like a 
coward. It was a lesson to Dolinda, and one 
by which she profited, too. Many, many times 
when about to succumb to fear, she would re- 
call this incident, and with a prayer for 
strength, “brace up” and face whatever con- 
fronted her. 


X 

Dolinda’s “Dawsy.” 


tl9 



Dolinda’s “Dawsy,’ 


X 

Dolinda^s ^^Dawsy/^ 

*‘Do your dawsy! Do your dawsy!'* shouted 
the Twins one morning. ‘'Do your dawsy T 

“Do your dawsy T yelled Dolinda in re- 
turn. (This term means that the one calling 
would dare the other to do some particular 
thing, in which danger lurked; perhaps walk 
a stone wall, jump the creek without getting 
wet, climb a fence or a tree. If the one chal- 
lenged couldn’t do it, and the challenger could, 
then they’d say he or she was ‘‘dawsied.” To 
be ‘‘dawsied” was a disgrace.) 

‘‘Do your dawsy!” again called the Twins. 

“Do your dawsy 1” responded Dolinda. 

\ 2 \ 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


"‘What shall it be? Fm ready,” Up to this; 
Dolinda had never been ''dawsied/’ and Ned 
and the Twins were always thinking of some- 
thing terrible to dare her to do. 

“Gobble-gobble,” called the old turkey cock 
at this instant. “Gobble-gobble.”. 

“Fight the gobbler!” cried one Tw;n. 

“You dassent I” yelled the other. 

Dolinda’s eyes opened wide at such a sug^ 
gestion. The old gobbler was a terror! All 
the other fowls were afraid of him, as he 
strutted around the barnyard with his tail 
spread out. The dogs and cats fled before him 
and the children were forbidden to go where 
he was, for father was afraid he’d pick their 
eyes out. 

“You dassent!” called one Twin again. 

“Do your dawsy !” cried the other. 

Dolinda turned pale, but she said in a firm 


122 


Dolinda’s “Dawsy.’^ 

voice: ready! on’y if I fight him you’ll 

have to fight him, too.” 

‘^All right,” responded the T vvins. They 
knew if she didn’t whip him they wouldn’t 
have to — and, of course, the old gobbler would 
settle Dolinda quicker than they could say 
‘‘Jack Robinson.” 

Dolinda felt a little doubtful of the Twins.. 
They had played tricks on her before, but 
when they laughed and said: “You’re ‘daw- 
sied,’ ” she said : 

“All right! I’m ready! But you’ve got to 
fight him, too !” 

“All right!” responded they. 

“Do you swear it ?” asked Dolinda. 

“Yes,” said the Twins. “Is that wet?” they 
asked, as they moistened their index fingers 
on their tongues and held them up for inspec- 
tion. “Is that dry ?” again they asked, as they 
rubbed the moisture off on the front of their 
123 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


pinafores. ‘'Cross my breast and never tell a 
lie.’^ 

That, to them, was a solemn vow, and if 
anyone dared do that and then tell a fib, the 
“Bad Man’’ was sure to catch her. 

“Gobble! gobble! gobble!” said the old 
turkey, as he strutted down behind the corn- 
crib. 


“ 'One' for a penny, 

And 'two' for a show — 

'Three' to make ready — 

And 'four' for a go!" 

yelled the Twins, as Dolinda rolled up her 
sleeves. At “four” she jumped out in front of 
the old gobbler and threw up her right arm to 
“guard.” 

“Gobble-gobble!” from the turkey, as he 
puffed up the feathers on his breast and made 

124 


Dolinda’s “Dawsy.” 


a lunge at Dolinda. Then the fight began in 
earnest. Dolinda tried to hit him, but all she 
could do was to protect her face and eyes. The 
old bird became wild with rage and picked Do- 
linda fiercely with his beak, then sprang upon 
her and buried his spurs into her soft flesh. 

The pain made her quiver, but just then the 
youngsters (they were all on hand by this 
time) yelled: 

“Go it, Dolly! go it!” 

Another attack, and yet another. The blood 
was streaming down Dolinda’s stockings by 
this time, and her hair was tangled up like a 
crow’s nest, her pinafore torn to shreds; but 
she would rather have died than give in. She 
struck out fiercely, right and left with feet and 
hands. The old gobbler had fought so des- 
perately that he seemed to be losing his wind. 
But as Dolinda struck out at him again he 
buried his beak and spurs into her with great 
\25 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

fierceness. The pain almost stunned the child, 
but she sprang at him wildly with a cry of rage 
— at this the gobbler turned tail and fled. 

She was almost ready to drop on the ground 
from exhaustion, but she proudly faced the 
others and cried: your dawsy! Come, 

Twins!” 

But the little rascals turned tail, too, and ran 
toward the house as fast as their legs could 
carry them. 

Dolinda felt so much like a heroine when 
she conquered the gobbler, that she, for the 
moment, forgot how dreadfully hurt she was; 
but now, when the Twins failed to keep their 
promise, she sat on the corn-crib steps and 
wept. She presented a most sorry appearance 
when she finally limped to the house, with her 
clothes torn and all bespattered with blood. 
She was so sore and bruised that she could 
scarcely move for days, but she hadn’t been 
126 


Dolinda’s “Dawsy.” 

"'dawsied/' and from that time on none of the 
youngsters dared her to do anything. 

“Duggie,” Jamie, and Charlie were almost 
ready to worship her, but the Twins (perhaps 
because they failed to keep their promise), 
never like, to admit that she was pluckier than 
the rest of them. 

In this world we pay a price for everything, 
but often the price paid is greater than the 
thing is worth. Dolinda felt, while she was 
covered with black, blue and sore spots, that 
she had paid mighty dear for her victory over 
the gobbler. But as the weeks went by, she 
forgot the pain. It did her vain little heart 
good to see the gobbler “move on'' when she 
went near the barn, while he stood his ground, 
ruffled up his feathers and spread his tail when 
anyone else approached. 



XI 

In Disgrace 


r 



In Disgrace. 


XI 


Li Disgrace 


'Thee looks very sweet, Dolinda. But I 
wonder how long thee’ll stay that way.” 

Dolinda glanced down at her new frock. It 
certainly was pretty. It was made of dark blue 
merino, with bands of moss rosebuds stitched 
around the bottom of the skirt. She also had 
on pretty new shoes and stockings. Dolinda 
tossed her curls back, while her cheeks glowed 
with pleasure because father had praised her. 
Taking her flesh, clean handkerchief by the 
center, she shook it out and held it daintily be- 
tween her thumb and forefinger, as she had 
seen the wax figures in the store windows do, 
and walked down the garden path toward the 
tzt 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

lane which led to the spring-house. She wanted 
everybody on the place to see her. 

Of course she looked well ! “But wait until 
I grow up,” she said softly to herself, “then I’ll 
be the most beautiful lady in Merion — prettier 
than aunty, even. I’ll wear long, trailing 
robes, and my cloak will be lined with real 
ermine, and I’ll have diamonds — the biggest 
ones in the world — and I’ll have slaves to wait 
on me, and I’ll have two little white ponies to 
drive in a low basket phaeton, and there’ll be 
knights in armor, who will come to pay court 

to me, but I’ll toss my head and ” 

“Dawlly ! Dawlly ! Rin down the lane, 
fasht as ye kin an’ head off thim cows !” 

It was Felix calling, as he ran toward the 
meadows. Dolinda took in the situation at a 
glance. The cows had broken down the fence 
between the pasture land and the field where 
the young corn was just about a foot or two 
132 


In Disgrace. 


liigh. If the cattle trampled the corn or ate 
it off, it meant a great loss to her father. She 
forgot her new frock, her new shoes, and her 
pretty lace handkerchief. She forgot the 
knights who were to pay her court — her one 
thought was to get to the corn-field as fast as 
ever she could. The cows had scented the fresh 
green stalks and a number of them had already 
begun to tear at them voraciously. Only one 
way was left by which Dolinda could head them 
off, and that was to cross the swamp. 

Without a moment’s hesitation she climbed 
the rail fence and made a leap to reach the 
ground on the other side. Now the pretty 
moss-rose bands around the bottom of Do- 
linda’s new frock were stitched with a sewing 
machine that made a loop or chain-stitch. 
When one stitch was broken the others would 
pull all out. As Dolinda climbed the fence, a 
splinter or knot caught in her dress, and, as she 
^33 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


jumped she heard a ripping sound, and the 
beautiful trimming began to drop from her 
frock. A lump rose in her throat; she was 
ready to cry, but again the voice of Felix could 
be heard: 

‘‘Fer Gawd's sake, head them awf, Dawlly !" 

So away Dolinda tore, tripping over her 
hanging trimmings as she went. On into the 
swamp, knee-deep in mud and water in some 
places. Down she'd go and her little hands 
would come in contact with a red or green slimy 
lizard, which made her shiver, but up she'd 
spring, and away she'd go again ! Finally she 
reached the broken fence and chased the cows 
back into the pasture lot. If was no easy 
matter for a small girl to keep them at bay, 
but Dolinda never knew fear, so she bravely 
fought them off, waving her hands and arms 
frantically, and yelling at them lustily, until 
Felix came up, puffing and panting for breath.' 

134 


In Disgrace. 

“Gawd love it/' he said, “ye’ve saved me 
loife! Now rin an’ fetch me the hatchet an’ 
nails, an’ we’ll fix this fence in no toime.” 

So off to the barn Dolinda ran, and soon 
returned with the nails and hatchet. In less 
time than it takes to tell, the fence was re- 
paired. 

“Ye’d better go home, I’m thinkin’,” said 
Felix, looking at her. 

Dolinda now remembered her clothes. She 
looked down at her dress. Was this her lovely 
blue frock ? It was wet, torn, and covered with 
mud. And the beautiful moss-rose bands were 
hanging like rags about her feet. She stooped 
and tied them up in knots, so they would not 
trip her. They then hung in festoons. Her 
shoes were utterly ruined, and her hair was 
disheveled and tangled. She felt very sorrow- 
ful indeed. However, a voice within whis- 
pered: “But you saved the crops.” Yes, she 
f35 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


had, and that was something, for Felix said 
they were worth a hundred dollars and more, 
and her dress, lovely as it had been, wasn’t 
worth nearly that much. So, plucking up her 
courage, she decided to go home. While cross- 
ing the swamp she had seen some lovely red 
lobelia, such as Margery wanted to ‘‘botanize” 
with, so she waded out a little way — she 
couldn’t get any worse than she was — and 
gathered a stalk or two. With the beautiful 
scarlet flowers in her hands she marched 
towards the house. 

Everybody was on the porch — father, 
mother, uncle, Margery, Ned, the Twins, and 
“Duggie.” As Dolinda approached, one of the 
youngsters yelled : 

“Oh! mamma, look at Dolinda!” 

They all looked, and father said in a severe 
tone: 


In Disgrace. 

knew it would be like that ! Thee couldn’t 
keep decent one hour.” 

Mother frowned and said : ^‘Come here this 
instant. I shall punish thee. I told thee to be 
careful of thy new dress, and you’ve gone into 
the swamp for that old red weed. Walk 
straight upstairs.” 

"‘But, father ” Dolinda began. She 

wanted him to understand that she hadn’t done 
it out of pure “cussedness,” as he had once 
said of her, but that she had done it going to 
drive the cows out of the corn-field. 

“Not one word more!” her mother said se- 
verely. “Go straight upstairs.” Ned tittered 
and made faces at Dolinda, so she threw her 
head up high in the air, shut her lips together 
tightly, and (tossing the lobelia to Margery as 
she passed) marched up to the nursery. Here 
again she had to submit to a scolding from 
Kate; and mother came up in a few moments 
J37 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


and ‘Varmed’' her with Jim's little cowhide 
whip. When she finished, she said : 

‘'Dolinda, I'm very sorry to punish thee, but 
something must be done to put a stop to thy 
destructiveness. Look at the condition thee are 
in, while thy brothers and sisters are all clean 
and pretty and tidy. Isn't thee ashamed of 
thyself?" 

Dolinda was crying softly, the great tears 
rolling down her cheeks. She did not speak, 
and her mother again said : "Isn't thee ashamed 
of thyself? Answer me." 

Dolinda raised her eyes and looked her 
mother squarely in the face, and replied with- 
out flinching: "No'm, I'm not ashamed." 

Her mother looked at her sorrowfully, 
heaved a sigh, and left the room, while Kate 
put the culprit to bed. [Dolinda was to go 
without supper, too.] 

When mother returned to the porch they 

m 


In Disgrace. 


were all discussing Dolinda’s ^Vickedness/"^ 
and wondering what she could have been doing 
to get into such a condition. 

Later, when the milking was over, and the 
chores were all done up, Felix came to the 
house and told father of the cows breaking the 
fence down and of how ‘‘Dawlly,’' who was 
'^sphry as a deer,” had crossed the swamp, 
headed the cattle off and saved the fields of 
corn. 

Father felt conscience-stricken for not inves- 
tigating the matter before Dolinda had been 
punished, so stole softly upstairs to speak to 
her. She was asleep, but the big teardrops were 
still wet on her cheeks. 

“Poor 'Tear-bags,' ” he murmured, “we 
were very unjust to thee. The crops were 
worth fifty dresses.” 

So the next day Dolinda was set right, and 
father bought her another new frock. 
f39 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

said Dolinda, ‘^you can’t take back 
the licking mamma gave me.” 

“Oh, well,” laughed father, “that’ll do for 
the 'tanning’ I owed thee!” 

When one recalls the trials endured by the 
mother of a big family of little ones (and espe- 
cially little ones who were always into some 
mischief), it is no wonder that she sometimes 
lost her patience. Only a few weeks after Do- 
iinda’s experience in crossing the swamp, an- 
other incident, very similar in result, happened. 

It was a Sunday afternoon in early summer. 
Kate had the children all dressed, ready to 
start for Sunday-school, when a heavy thunder- 
storm suddenly gathered and burst forth furi- 
ously. They could not go, of course, but Do- 
linda suggested that they hold a Sunday-school 
all of their own, so they assembled in the sitting- 
room, sang hymns, read a verse or two from 
the Bible, and then Ned took up the collection. 

140 


In Disgrace. 

[He kept it, by the way, for he said that was 
what the minister did, and as he was the only 
''man” in the family — ^Jamie and Charlie were 
too young to count — the pennies and nickels 
belonged to him.] 

The storm passed almost as suddenly as it 
had arisen, and the sun shone again brightly. 
The youngsters went out on the porch where 
father was sitting and asked him to tell them 
something more about the history of Merion. 
They loved to hear stirring tales of war, and were 
delighted to know that many notable events 
of our country’s struggle for independence had 
actually happened within sight of their own old 
home. They knew some little children from 
Boston, who boasted that Massachusetts was 
the whole earth — but Dolinda and the Twins 
proudly informed them that they couldn’t move 
the State House with its "Liberty Bell,” nor 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

Carpenters’ Hall, where the first Continental 
Congress was held, away from Philadelphia. 

Dolinda climbed on her ''daddy’s” knees as 
he began. "Lilac Grove” faced the Old Lan- 
caster Road, just beyond the "Black Horse” 
Tavern and barn, which stand close to the 
"County Line.” 

"There, down by Stadelman’s” (father 
pointed and the children could see the very 
spot), "a skirmish took place between the 
American forces under General Potter, and a 
detachment of the British. Blockley and 
Merion Townships suffered greatly from the 
ravages of English forage parties, and General 
Potter was kept busy in protecting the inhabi- 
4:ants and annoying the enemy.*” 

* A letter written by General Potter is recorded in Vol. 
VI. of the Pennsylvania Archives, First Series, page 97. It 
reads as follows (I give it verbatim — bad spelling and all): 

Sir: — Last Thursday, the enemy march out of the city with 
^ desire to Furridge; but it was nessecerey to drive me out of 

U2 



The " Black Horse ” Barn, on the old Lancaster Road, corner “County- 
Line,” where the Pennsylvania Militia under General Potter defeated a 
detachment of Cornwallis’ army (during the Revolution). The dead and 
wounded were carried into this barn. 







In Disgrace. 

‘Was anybody killed?’' asked one of the 
children. 

“Yes,” answered father, “some were killed, 
and a number wounded. They were carried 


the way; my advanced picquet fired on them at the Bridge: 
another party of one Hundred attacked them at the Black 
Hors. I was encamped on Charles Thomson’s place, where 1 
stacconed two Regments who attacked the enemy with Viger. 
On the next Hill I stacconed three Regments, letting the first 
^ine know that when they were overpowered they must retreat 
and form behind the second line, and in that maner we formed 
and Retreated for four miles: And on every Hill we disputed 
the matter {with them. My people Behaved well, espeasly 
three Regments commanded by the Cols. Chambers, Murrey, 
and Leacey. His Excellency Returned us thanks in public 
orders: — But the complement would have been much more 
substantale had the Valant General Salovan covered my Retreat 
with two Divisions of the Army, he had in my Reare; the front 
of them was about one half mile in my Rear, but he gave 
orders for them to Retreat and join the Army who were on the 
other side of the Schuylkill about one mile and a Half off from 
me: thus the enemy Got leave to plunder the Countrey, which 
the have dun without parsiality or favour to any, leave none o^ 
the Nesscereys of life Behind them that the conveniantly could 
carrey or destroy. My loss in this action 1 am not able to As- 
sartain as yet: it is not so mutch as might be expected. The 
Rilled don’t exceed 5 or 6; taken prisoners about 20. wounded 

143 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


into the Black Horse barn and laid upon beds 
made of hay, until assistance could be had.” 

“Can we walk down the road and look at the 
barn again?” asked Dolinda. 

“Yes,” replied father, “but don’t get wet. 
Keep in the middle of the road.” 

The youngsters started, singing “Keep in 
the Middle of the King’s Highway,” as they 
went. The hymn was suggested by father’s 
words. 

about 20: with the enemy acknowledged the got the worst of 
this Action ; there light hors suffered mutch for they Charged 

I am your Excellency’s 

Most Obedant 

Humble Servant, 

JA. POTTER. 

P.S. — His Excellency was not with the Army when this 
unlucky neglect hapned: the army was on there march and he 
had not come from his Quarters at Whitmarsh. 

Chester County Camp at Head Quarters, Dec. 15. 1777. 

Directed on public service. 

His Excellency Thomas Wharton, Esq., at Lancaster. 


(Thomas Wharton, Jr., was then President of the Supreme 
Executive Council — that is. President of the Commonwealth of 
Pennsylvania, under the Constitution of 1776. General I otter,, 
himself, became Vice-President in 1781. 

fU 


In Disgrace. 

They walked . around the barn, viewing it 
with new interest and wondering into which 
door the dead and wounded soldiers had been 
carried. They were just turning back toward 
home when Ned said : 

“Say, girls, I know where there’s lots of 
nice, ripe, wild strawberries. Let’s go gather 
some.” 

“Where?” queried the children. 

“Over in the field back of Gerhard’s woods. 
What do you say?” 

“Yes! Yes!” was the response. So off they 
started through the woods, to the open field be- 
yond. 

Remember, the children were dressed for 
Sunday-school. The Twins wore white mull 
dresses with red sashes and sleeve ribbons. 
Dolinda’s white gown was relieved with blue 
ribbons, while “Duggie” was gay with pink 
bows. Their leghorn flats were bright as sum- 
f45 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

mer flower-gardens. Dolinda’s was weighted 
down with daisies, the Twins' with poppies, 
and ^^Duggie’s” with rosebuds. 

They followed the pathway in the woods, 
but when they came to the fields there was no 
path to follow, so Ned led the way. The grass 
was tall, in some places higher than ^^Dug- 
gie's" head, for it was before harvest time, 
and the heavy storm had left everything 
drenched with rain. On marched the young- 
sters, unmindful of the ruin to their clothes. 
Long before they reached the ‘^strawberry- 
field" they were wet through to their skins. 
The color from their ribbons had stained their 
once, pretty white dresses; their hats hung 
limp and wet, down over their faces. But 
they were all unconscious, and laughed in glee 
when they found a cluster of berries. 

You're not to eat any," called Ned to the 


146 


In Disgrace. 

others. ‘We’ll keep them until we get home. 
Then we’ll have cream to eat with them.” 

Whenever they had a handful each one 
would bring it to Ned and drop the berries in 
his straw hat. They had nothing else to carry 
them in. They laughed and shouted to each 
other, and were having a jolly time, when they 
heard father’s voice calling. (The crown of 
Ned’s hat was about half full of berries by this 
time. ) 

“Children,” called father, “come here this 
instant.” 

“Oh! Father,” cried Dolinda, as she ran 
towards him, “we’ve found the loveliest straw- 
berries you ever saw, and we’re going to take 
them home and get some cream ” 

“I’ll ‘cream’ thee I” said he severely. 
“Cream, indeed! Look at thy frocks!” 

A more dilapidated, bedraggled lot of young- 
sters couldn’t be found anywhere, and for the 
H7 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

first time they began to realize that their 
clothes were spoiled. 

“March home this instant!’' commanded 
father, as he flourished a switch he had cut 
from a tree in the woods. With heads droop- 
ing, the girls trotted on before their “daddy,” 
but Ned, with the berries in his hat, slunk be- 
hind. When they neared home Dolinda turned 
and said (she was always fearless) : 

“Can we have some cream for our berries 
when we get home?” 

“Didn’t I tell thee I’d give thee some 'cream' 
when I got thee home ?” responded father in a 
tone the meaning of which could not be mis- 
taken. 

Meanwhile Ned, in the rear, was devouring 
the berries. 

When mother beheld her four bedraggled 
girls she felt very much like crying. Every 
stitch they wore was ruined. Father took 
t48 


In Disgrace. 


them by turns and ‘‘tanned their jackets,” as 
they deserved, and sent them to bed. Mean- 
time Ned, who had eaten up all the berries, 
was in hiding somewhere. He escaped his 
share of the punishment, as he usually did. 
The next day he laughed and told Kate and 
Pelix that he had had the berries, while the 
girls got the '‘cream!” 

If he had shared the fruit with them the 
others wouldn’t have minded the “tanning” so 
much ; but they all agreed that he was a “hor- 
rid, mean thing,” and that consoled them 
somewhat. For days they “boycotted” him, 
but they were bright, happy youngsters, with 
no malice in their hearts, and in a little while 
forgave him. 


149 


XII 

Her Motto 


Her Motto. 


XII 


Her Motto 

“’Tw better to he ready and not go than to 
^o and not be ready” 

That was Dolinda’s motto for years, and she 
never regretted the day she adopted it. As a 
child she was the most careless, thoughtless 
youngster in the world. When she undressed, 
she took her clothes off as a matter of course, 
but whether she’d ever find them again or not, 
was another thing altogether. Many a crack 
with the back of the brush did Dolinda receive 
from Kate, the nurse, when she’d ask where her 
hair ribbon or round-comb was. She never 
knew. She had had it yesterday, but it van- 
J53 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

ished in the night. Dolinda remembers won- 
dering vaguely whether things couldn’t walk. 
She was sure they could; they must; else 
why didn’t she find them where she had left 
them? But where had she left them? She 
could never remember. 

Then her clothes had a way of always get- 
ting torn. If there was a nail anywhere about 
the house it never seemed to catch anyone’s; 
dress except Dolinda’s — but it always caught 
hers. The. door knobs, too, had a way of mak- 
ing themselves very numerous. Just as she 
was racing in a great hurry for something im- 
portant, a knob (so it seemed to her), would! 
reach out and grab her. She hadn’t time tO' 
stop, of course, so would rush on to the sound' 
of swish-swish. There! Dolinda’s dress was 
torn to pieces! Never mind, if it wasn’t too- 
badly torn, she’d pin it up. If it was past pin- 
ning she’d take it off and put on something- 
J54 


Her Motto. 


else. So it went till almost everything she 
owned was in rags. Sometimes papa would 
say at dinner : "‘Fm going to Fairmount Park 
this afternoon, and if the children want to go 
they can — but they must hurry.” 

Immediately there was a rush for hats; a 
hasty dab with the wash-cloth, the pulling up 
of stockings, and they were ready. But Do- 
linda couldn’t find her hat! Somebody must 
have it! But no, they hadn’t. Oh! what 
should she do? “Why do my things always 
get lost?” she cried. 

“Hurry up, Dol, papa’s ready,” call the chil- 
dren from the wagon. But she could not go 
bareheaded. She rushes to the house, into the 
sitting-room, crying: 

“Kate, Kate, lend me your hat, please do;- 
mine’s somewhere, but I can’t find it.” 

If Kate was in a good humor she would lend 
Dolinda the hat, and off she would run, gen- 
J55 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


•erally having to climb over the tail-board as 
the wagon was starting. Then there was sure 
to be a screw or something on which to tear 
her clothes or scratch her hands. Oh, dear! 
Dolinda was always in trouble I 

One day papa said he would take all the 
youngsters with him. He was going to Valley 
Forge. Now the children knew that this was 
one of the most famous spots in the history of 
the country, for father had told them of the 
hardships endured there by Washington’s army 
during that memorable winter of 1777. Do- 
linda’s eyes shone with excitement, she was so 
delighted with the prospect of seeing Wash- 
ington’s Headquarters. 

‘When about to start father stopped and 
looked at his “tow-head.” Then he called to 
mother, saying: 

“What’s the matter with Dolinda? She 
lever looks decent.” 


156 






Washington's Headquarters at Valley Forge, Pa 



m\ 







Her Motto. 


can’t help it,” replied mamma. ‘1 do 
more sewing for her than for any other two 
of the children put together; but there is no 
use. She is always in rags. If I put a new 
dress on her she straightway goes to the barn 
and climbs in the loft; or she is up a cherry 
tree, or riding one of the horses bareback. The 
other girls behave themselves, but she’s a regu- 
lar tomboy.” 

‘‘Well, I can’t take her looking like that,” 
said papa. “Be a good girl, daughter,” con- 
tinued he, turning to Dolinda, “and when I 
come home I’ll let thee ride Goalie as long as- 
thee wants to.” 

The promise of a horseback ride was all very 
well, but to think of the others going with 
father, to have them see things that she had 
never seen, was more than she could stand. 
The big tears began to trickle down her cheeks, 
and she had a lump as big as a walnut in her 
\S1 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


throat. She was sure she’d burst in a minute ! 

“There! there! Don’t cry, Tear-bags,’” 
laughed papa, shaking his whip at her. She 
never budged till they were out of sight, then 
she ran to the barn, up into the hay-loft, and, 
throwing herself down on the hay, cried as 
though her heart would break. When she had 
cried herself out she began to think. The 
other girls always looked nice. Why was it? 
Did they get more dresses than she did? No; 
come to think of it, she didn’t believe they 
did. But then, she concluded, mamma must 
get them better stuff than she bought for her. 

Papa had once threatened to buy some salt 
sacks for her to wear, and cut a hole in the 
bottom for her head to come through, and a 
hole for each arm, unless she took better care 
of her clothes. So Dolinda said: 

“I don’t care. I’m a fright anyhow, so 
what’s the difference? I couldn’t look any 
t58 


Her Motto. 


T^orse/^ She wondered then, what she looked 
like, anyhow ? She concluded she would go and 
see. So she climbed down from the haymow 
and marched into the house, upstairs into the 
spare room, so that she could have the benefit 
of the great long glass that hung there. Do- 
linda had to confess that she — even she — was 
somewhat startled at the object she beheld. 

that me?” she asked. She didn’t believe 
it could be, so “made faces” to see. 

The “object” made faces back at her. 

“Yes, guess it’s me, after all,” mused Do- 
linda. “But ain’t I ugly? No wonder papa 
didn’t take me. But then, I didn’t make my- 
self, and I couldn’t help it if I am ugly. And 
if God made me, why didn’t he make me as 
pretty as the others?” Then the thought came 
to her : “Maybe I’m ’dopted.” She had heard 
Mrs. Campbell say once to mamma : “She isn’t 
a bit like the others; where did you get her?” 
f59 


Dolinda and the Twins. 

The more she thought of it the more she be-^ 
came convinced that she must be ^‘’dopted/^ 
The other girls had pretty brown curls, while 
she had a shaggy mane of straw color; they 
were small and dainty, while she seemed to be 
all legs and head, with arms like pump-handles 
dangling at the sides. She gazed and gazed at 
her reflection. Face red, eyes swollen from 
weeping, hair matted and thickly strewn with 
hay seeds, dress hanging in festoons, one stock- 
ing down, leaving a poor little broomstick of 
a shank exposed to view, shoes covered with 
dust! No wonder she had been left at home! 

Dolinda’s reflection haunted her for days. 
Every now and then sheM go and look in the 
glass again, and every time she did so, she’d 
shake her fist at the reflection. One day some- 
thing whispered to her : ‘‘God didn’t make you 
dirty; He made you clean.” That was so. 
Then why didn’t she keep clean ?” Guess she’d 
160 


Her Motto. 


try it. Poor Dolinda ! How she battled with 
dirt! But she felt she was getting along a 
little better. Then she begged to have her hair 
cut off — it would be easier then — ^but mamma 
refused. 

'^Cut off those lovely curls?’’ she said. ‘T 
certainly will not.” 

Lovely! Was mamma making fun of her? 
She didn’t know, but anyhow she didn’t care, 
she was only '^’dopted,” and nobody loved that 
kind of a child. 

One day Dolinda went to the village with a 
neighbor’s daughter, who was going to have 
her hair ^‘shingled.” The barber looked at Do- 
linda’s hair and said : 

‘^Don’t you want to have yours cut, too?’' 

*T haven’t any money to pay you,” replied 
Dolinda. But he assured her that that didn’t 
matter, so she climbed up in the chair. In a 
few moments her curls were gone ! 

f6f 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


When she reached home, papa ‘‘tanned her 
jacket” well, and then started off to the village 
and got the curls back. He was furious ! He 
said the barber had deliberately stolen them 
because they were beautiful. (They really did 
look prettier to Dolinda off than they had on. ) 
But she was satisfied. Now she had no hair 
to worry her, and she had learned to keep her 
hands and face clean. 

One day she picked up an old paper and 
climbed her favorite tree to read. She came 
across a story that fascinated her. It was about 
a girl, poor thing, who had been very much in 
the same fix as Dolinda. It related how she 
determined to always have one suit to wear; 
always have something put in a certain place, 
where she could find it at a moment's notice: 
how she, each time she wore it, went over the 
gown to see that it needed no repairing; how 
she sewed her buttons on her shoes, etc. Her 
J62 


Her Motto. 


motto was, '^Better he ready and not go than 
to go and not be ready/' 

Why couldn’t she do that ? Dolinda thought. 
She could. She immediately went to the house, 
got out her best shoes; there were three or 
four buttons off, but she worked faithfully until 
she had sewed them on. To be sure she ran 
the needle under her finger nail, and the thread 
was always getting tangled, but she persevered 
until she accomplished her task. So she went 
over everything and put them all together in 
the closet. The next time papa said they could 
go with him she ran upstairs and changed her 
clothes. It was so nice to know that she wasn’t 
coming apart ! When she came home she 
thought she might just as well keep them on, 
but no — Polly, her heroine didn’t, and neither 
would she. So she went upstairs and took them 
off. She forgot, however, to put them in their 
proper places, but when she was about to go to 
\6Z 


Dolinda and the Twins. 


bed she remembered it, so took them up care- 
fully piece by piece, and looked them over. She 
found a number of things that needed repair- 
ing, but she did it faithfully. After a while 
everybody noticed the difference in Dolinda, 
but she ‘‘never let on.” Still she had to con- 
fess to herself that she felt good when she heard 
papa say to mamma : 

“Dolinda is becoming quite neat, isn’t she?’^ 

“Yes,” answered mamma; “but she is such 
a queer young one that I don’t say much to her. 
I’m afraid she’ll relax again.” But she didn’t. 
The habit of going over her clothes each 
time she took them off grew to be a second na- 
ture. She never had to look in closets, trunks 
or drawers for her gloves, her collars, her 
clothes. She always knew where they were, 
for she put them in their proper places. 

If any little girls read this story, I would ad- 
vise them to adopt Dolinda’s motto from this 
ta 


Her Motto. 


time on : Better he ready and not go than to 
go and not be ready.” 

What looks worse than rich finery, half com- 
ing apart for the want of a little care? Give 
me the girl who will keep a plain cashmere 
dress neat and presentable, rather than the 
pretty girl with a stylish silk dress who has 
her skirt bindings dangling round her heels, 
ready to trip her at almost any step. If you 
are careless, begin now, this instant, to try and 
correct it. It may be a hard fight, but it will 
pay in the end. Adopt Dolinda's motto, for it 
is a good one. 


THE END.! 


\65 







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